i  i;  m 


ORION,  THE  GOLD 
BEATER 


OR 


TRUE  HEARTS  AND  FALSE 


A   TALE  OF  NEW  YORK  LIFE 


BY 

SYLVANUS  COBB,   JR. 

AUTHOR  OF  "  THE  GUNMAKER  OF  MOSCOW,"  "  THE 
STORM  SECRET,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


PHILADELPHIA : 
HENRY  T.  COAXES  &  CO. 


COPYRIGHT,  BY  ROBERT  BONNER. 


COPYRIGHT,  1896,  BY 
THE  CASSELL  PUBLISHING  CO. 


All  rights  reserved. 


.ieprintcd  from  the  A^w  F^r/t  Ledger  by  permission  of 
Mr.  Robert  Bonner. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGB 

I.— ORION— A  CURIOUS  ADVENTURE,  i 

II.— A  CATASTROPHE, 9 

III. -THE  HOME  OF  THE  DYING,       -       -       -       -  18 

IV.— THE  CONFLICT— STORY  OF  A  LIFE,      -       -  26 

V.— JASPER  THORNTON— A  SUSPICION,                    -  35 

Vl. — A  MYSTERY,    -------  42 

Vii.— DARO  KID— THE  MERCHANT  AT  HOME,          -  51 

VIII.— A  STARTLING  SCENE,     -^      ...       -  57 

IX.— SHADOWS,    -      . -'  ..-.;-,      ....  65 

X.— RUIN— A  THRILLING  EPISODE,     ...  72 

XI.— RESTITUTION,      - :  •  .>  '-"'-;..     *  83 

XII.— PASSING  AWAY,     'V      -     "..       -       -       -  94 

XIII.— CONVALESCENCE— A  PLEASING  INTERVIEW,     -  102 

XIV.— AN  ACCOMMODATING  ROBBER,      -       -       -  no 

XV. — THE  ABDUCTION,        >       -       -       -       -       -  118 

XVI.— A  LIVE  COUNT,  AND  AN  UNWELCOME  VISITOR,  126 

XVIL— COUNTER  PLOT, 134 

XVIIL— DISAPPOINTMENT— THE  DAWN  OF  LOVE,     -  142 

XIX.— THE  PRISONERS, 151 

XX.— A  BITTER  DISAPPOINTMENT,  -       -       *       »  160 

XXI.— IN  SEARCH  OF  A  SECRET,                       ?      ?  167 

M11976 


11  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTBR  PAGE 

XXII.— THE  CONFERENCE— AN   UNEXPECTED  AD- 
VENTURE, 175 

XXIII.— THE  PRINCE— LOST!  LOST!         -       -       -  184 

XXIV. — THE  WOLF  IN  THE  WORN  ONE'S  RETREAT,  194 

XXV. — THE  VISION — PASSING  AWAY,      -       -       -  204 

XXVI.— A  NEW  PHASE  OF  THE  MYSTERY,   -       -  213 

XXVII.— THE  LAST  MISSION,      -       -       •        -       -  221 

XXVIII.— THE  PLOTTERS  FOR  EVIL,        *       -       -  229 

XXIX.— THE  PLOT  is  CONSUMMATED,      -       •«  .  -  238 

XXX.— LOVE'S  BATTLE,        -       -       -     .-       -  245 

XXXI.— MORE  PLOTTING — BARTERED  SOULS,  -       -  '255 

XXXII.— GLICKER  PLAYS  A  TRUMP,  AND  SHOWS  HIS 
HAND;  BUT  is  SLIGHTLY  ASTONISHED 
UPON  BEHOLDING  THE  HAND  OF  HIS 

ADVERSARY,    - 260 

XXXIII.— How  THORNTON'S  PLOT  WORKED,      -       -  269 

XXXIV. — ASTOUNDING  DEVELOPMENTS,  -  -  -  275 

XXXV.— THE  LAST  BLOW  is  STRICKEN,  -  -  -  284 

XXXVI.— REUNION— THE  STRICKEN,  ...  294 

XXXVII.— A  RECORD, 302 

XXXVIII.— A  STORY  OF  THE  PAST,  ....  307 

XXXIX.— CONCLUSION,         .......  314 


INTRODUCTION. 


IT  would  be  gilding  refined  gold  to  introduce  Sylvanus 
Cobb,  Jr.,  to  the  lovers  of  fiction  in  the  United  States.  There 
are  few  to  whom  his  name  is  not  a  household  word,  so  that 
it  is  not  as  an  introduction  to  the  author  that  the  publish- 
ers print  this  note.  They  give  it  merely  to  set  forth  a  few 
facts  in  connection  with  the  publication  of  Mr.  Cobb's 
works  by  them.  For  a  number  of  years  it  was  only  through 
the  columns  of  the  New  York  Herald  that  Sylvanus  Cobb,  Jr., 
could  reach  his  public,  and  it  is  unnecessary  to  say  that  his 
extraordinary  popularity  added  largely  to  the  circulation  of 
that  journal.  What  this  popularity  was  and  how  lasting  its 
quality  may  be  judged  from  the  fact  that  Mr.  Bonner  re- 
printed his  stories  in  the  very  columns  where  they  made  their 
first  appearance.  He  was  shrewd  enough  to  appreciate 
that  the  taste  of  one  generation  of  readers  is  not  unlike 
that  of  another,  and  he  printed  for  the  delectation  of  the 
sons  the  stories  that  had  kept  their  fathers  up  into  the 
small  hours  to  read.  They  were  only  accessible  through 
the  columns  of  the  Ledger  until  now  that  the  under- 
signed have  arranged  for  their  publication  in  book  form. 
That  masterpiece  of  the  decently  sensational  novel,  "  Orion 
the  Goldbeater/'  is  the  first  of  Mr.  Cobb's  stories  to  find 
itself  between  covers,  and  others  will  follow  in  the  Sunshine 
Library  at  short  intervals.  His  "  Orion  the  Goldbeater"  is 
a  story  of  New  York  life,  and  is  as  true  to-day  as  when  the 
author  wrote  it.  The  scenes  are  just  the  same,  the  charac- 
ters just  as  real,  and  the  interest  as  intense  as  when  a  quar- 
ter of  a  million  readers  were  waiting  breathlessly  for  its 
appearance  from  week  to  week. 

It  may  be  said  of  Sylvanus  Cobb,  Jr.,  that  while  he  wrote 
with  a  pen  that  never  lost  its  hold  upon  those  who  fol- 
lowed its  course,  while  small  boys  and  young  girls  as  well 
as  their  parents  followed  the  careers  of  his  heroes  and' 


VI  INTRODUCTION. 

heroines,  while  they  wept  over  their  sorrows  and  laughed 
with  their  joys,  their  interest  was  held  by  legitimate  means 
and  not  by  the  publication  of  things  that  should  cause  the 
author  to  blush.  There  is  nothing  in  any  of  Sylvanus 
Cobb's  stories  that  the  most  particular  parent  could  call 
objectionable,  and  an  author  could  have  no  prouder  epitaph 
than  that  which  would  record  this  fact. 

Sylvanus  Cobb,  Jr.,  as  he  was  called  to  the  day  of  his  death, 
was  the  son  of  a  New  England  clergyman,  and  was  born  in 
Waterville,  Maine,  in  1823,  and  died  in  1887,  at  Hyde  Park, 
Massachusetts,  where  he  had  lived  since  1869.  His  life  was 
a  quiet  one,  and  had  been  devoted  principally  to  journalism. 
He  was  the  editor  of  one  or  two  Boston  papers  at  different 
times,  but  he  found  story-writing  so  remunerative  that  he 
gave  up  every  other  form  of  writing  and  devoted  himself 
exclusively  to  that  branch  of  the  art.  By  an  arrangement 
with  Mr.  Bonner  his  stories  for  the  last  twenty  years  of  his 
life  were  published  exclusively  in  the  columns  of  the  Ledger. 
Mr.  Cobb  amassed  a  large  fortune  by  his  pen,  and  built 
himself  a  handsome  house  at  Hyde  Park.  His  study  was 
situated  in  a  remote  corner  of  the  house  in  a  tower  built  ex- 
clusively for  his  convenience.  There  he  wrote  uninter- 
rupted, surrounded  by  all  the  curious  odds  and  ends  that  he 
had  picked  up  during  his  life.  He  was  particularly  fond  of 
arms  and  armor,  and  his  collection  of  these  articles  was  rare 
and  valuable. 

"  Mr.  Cobb's  will  is  so  characteristic  of  the  man  that  we 
quote  an  extract  from  it  ;  «  I  do  set  it  down  as  my  ex- 
press desire  that  no  member  of  my  family  or  relative  or 
friend  shall  for  me  put  on  at  any  time  any  outward  badge 
of  mourning.  Let  no  blackness  of  crape  or  funeral  weed 
cast  its  gloom  upon  my  memory.  I  would  that  my  beloved 
ones  should  seek  the  brightness  and  fragrance  of  faith  and 
trust  in  God,  rather  than  the  gloom  which  belongs  to 
doubt  and  unrest.  I  go  to  find  more  light.  Add  ye  not  to 
the  darkness  who  remain  behind." 


ORION,  THE  GOLD  BEATER; 

OR 

TRUE   HEARTS  AND   FALSE. 

CHAPTER  I. 

ORION — A  CURIOUS  ADVENTURE. 

NEW  YORK  !  The  Metropolis  of  the  Union  !  Nestled 
away  in  its  land-locked  bay — teeming  with  the  collected 
wealth  of  nations — crowded  with  its  gathering  hosts  of 
humanity — a  vast  battle-ground  of  Life,  in  the  midst  of 
which  stands  Mammon,  flushed  with  conquest  and  victory  ! 

What  a  field  for  the  study  of  man  !  Who  can  count  its 
riches,  or  who  shall  dare  to  guess  at  its  poverty  ?  The  eye 
is  dazzled  by  its  princely  palaces,  and  the  heart  bleeds  in 
view  of  its  squalid  wretchedness ! 

Here  its  thousands  roll  in  luxurious  plenty  ;  and  there 
its  thousands  more  fall  crushed  and  dying  beneath  want 
and  famine  !  Here  the  favored  ones  see  green  trees,  and 
breath  fresh  air  ;  while  there  the  poor  children  of  dire 
necessity  look  only  upon  fostering  corruption  and  breathe 
the  foul  miasma  of  pestilence  and  death ! 

Pass  this  way,  and  we  find  intelligence,  morality,  and 
virtue ;  but  turn  thither,  and  we  stand  in  the  midst  of 
ignorance,  of  vice,  and  of  moral  death  !  But  mark  !  All 
its  poverty  is  not  vicious — and  all  its  wealth  is  not  virtue  ! 
No,  no  !  In  some  of  the  palaces  you  may  find  hearts  black 
with  sin  ;  and  in  some  of  the  hovels  you  shall  find  souls  as 
true  and  pure  as  earth  can  beget. 

And  now,  if  any  of  the  scenes  of  my  story  cause  a  shudder, 


2  .    ,  ,     ,    QXSO.V,  THM.  GOLD  BEA  TER. 

remember  'th'at  1 "  only  *give  them  because  they  are  true. 
God  forbid  that  I  should  draw  one  single  theme  of  horror 
from  imagination,  when  I  have  seen  with  my  own  eyes,  in 
this  great  city,  scenes  so  terrible  that  I  could  not  write 
them  if  I  would — scenes  which  would  so  shock  the  senses 
that  even  simple  belief  would  be  staggered.  I  would  not 
pander  to  morbid  curiosity — I  will  only  picture  humanity 
as  I  find  it.  If  I  show  you  vice,  it  is  that  you  may  shun 
it ;  but  be  sure  we  shall  find  much,  very  much,  of  noble 
virtue  that  is  worth  copying — virtue  that  warms  the  heart, 
beautifies  life,  and  lifts  the  soul  heavenward  ! 

It  was  towards  the  close  of  a  wet,  cold  day  in  Spring — 
in  the  first  week  of  May.  It  had  not  been  raining,  but  a 
sort  of  sleety  mist  had  hung  over  the  great  city  since  early 
morning,  and  the  pavements  were  sloppy  and  wet.  The 
dampness  fell  insensibly,  but  it  clung  to  the  stones  and 
bricks  with  such  tenacity,  never  drying  up  nor  running  off, 
the  deposit  of  the  early  hours  still  remaining  where  it  first 
found  rest,  that  there  was  more  mud  and  slop  in  the  streets 
and  upon  the  sidewalks  than  could  have  resulted  from  rain. 
Upon  the  avenues  the  cars  and  the  stages  were  full — even 
to  that  fabulous  fullness  in  view  of  which  the  drivers  refuse 
to  stop  for  even  "  one  more," — and  yet  the  sidewalks  were 
crowded  with  men,  women,  and  children  hurrying  home 
from  the  toils  of  the  day — jostling  and  pushing — each  one 
for  self — looking  only  ahead — caring  for  nothing  about 
them — all  citizens  of  the  same  town,  and  yet  all  strangers. 
Down-town  the  larger  stores  were  all  closed,  and  in  some 
of  the  more  retired  localities  the  gas  was  already  lighted. 

Upon  Broadway,  in  the  midst  of  the  great  business  por- 
tion of  the  city,  stood  a  large  brick  building,  which,  run- 
ning back  over  several  lots,  rested  its  rear  upon  a  court- 
yard that  opened  from  the  main  thoroughfare  by  a  narrow 
passage.  Upon  this  court  were  several  shops  and  offices, 
and,  unlike  most  places  of  the  kind,  the  yard  was  neat  and 
clean.  In  one  of  the  basements,  which  was  well  lighted 
from  both  sides,  was  a  manufactory  of  gold-leaf.  The 
apartment  was  quite  spacious,  with  a  small  office  and 
assaying-room  in  one  corner,  and  with  anvils,  or  beating- 
tables,  for  some  dozen  workmen.  At  the  present  time  there 
was  only  one  person  in  the  goldsmith's  shop — a  young  man, 
twenty-two  years  of  age,  named  Orion  Lindell.  He  had 


ORION— A  CURIOUS  ADVENTURE.  3 

been  in  the  employ  of  Mr.  Garvey,  the  owner,  only  about 
five  years,  and  yet  he  was  the  foreman  of  the  shop.  All 
outside  of  the  office  was  under  his  charge,  and  those  who 
know  the  peculiar  value  of  the  material  which  passed  in 
large  quantities  through  his  hands  will  at  once  realize  the 
responsibility  of  his  station.  He  had  proved  himself  com- 
petent and  faithful,  and  untold  wealth  was  left  to  his 
individual  care  with  as  much  assurance  of  its  safety  as  its 
owner  could  have  felt  in  all  the  vaults  and  proof  locks  in 
the  city. 

Orion  Lindell  was  of  medium  size,  not  large  in  frame, 
but  firmly  and  compactly  built,  with  a  form  of  admirable 
proportions  ;  his  limbs  full  and  finely  rounded  ;  his  breast 
broad  and  nobly  developed,  and  his  carriage  free  and  light. 
His  face  was  one  of  peculiar,  manly  beauty.  His  brow  was 
high,  open,  and  full,  above  and  about  which  clustered  the 
glossy  hair  in  light  brown  curls ;  his  eyes  sparkling  and 
bright,  and  of  a  deep  bluish  gray  color ;  his  nose  slightly 
aquiline,  with  those  finely  curved  nostrils  which  mark  the 
firm,  energetic  soul ;  his  lips  thin — though  not  too  thin — 
betraying  no  sensualism,  but  showing  the  stout  will  and 
quickness  of  feeling  which  characterize  the  man  of  daunt- 
less moral  courage. 

Such  was  Orion  Lindell — true,  pure,  and  noble  ;  beloved 
and  honored  by  all  who  knew  him  ;  respected  by  those 
below  him,  and  always  obeyed  cheerfully  and  quickly. 
None  could  do  more  work,  and  few  could  do  as  much  as 
he.  His  arms  were  like  the  shaft  of  a  trip-hammer,  and  a 
constant  swinging  of  the  ponderous  beating-maul  had  so 
developed  the  muscular  power  that  even  he  himself  was 
ofter  surprised  at  the  result  of  his  own  physical  strength. 
He  had  just  finished  putting  things  in  order,  and  was  about 
to  put  on  his  coat,  when  the  door  was  opened,  and  a  young 
man  entered.  He  was  a  clerk  in  a  store  overhead,  being 
some  three  years  older  than  Orion,  and  taller,  as  well  as  a 
little  heavier. 

"  Ah,  Orion — off,  eh  ?  "  the  new-comer  remarked,  as  he 
closed  the  door  behind  him. 

"  Yes,  Charley— it's  late  enough,  isn't  it  ? " 

"  I  s'pose  'tis.  It's  dark  early  to-night.  But  say — I've 
come  down  to  take  a  bout  with  the  gloves,  Won't  you 
try 'em?" 


4  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

"  Pooh,"  laughingly  returned  Orion,  "  you  don't  want  to 
try  the  gloves  to-night." 

"  Yes — just  a  minute.  I'm  going  to  see  Bill  Emmerton 
to-morrow,  and  I  want  to  astonish  him.  Come — just  give 
us  a  turn." 

"  Well — if  you  are  earnest  about  it."  And  thus  speaking 
Orion  turned  to  a  small  desk  from  which  he  took  two  pairs 
of  boxing  gloves.  He  was  not  a  boxer  by  profession,  but 
having  been  brought  up  in  company  with  a  man  who  taught 
the  art  for  a  living,  he  had  learned  much  of  the  science. 
He  found  it  a  healthy,  athletic  exercise,  and  he  had  followed 
it  up  ;  and  now,  as  a  source  of  amusement,  he  taught  the 
art  to  some  of  those  friends  who  objected  to  mixing  with 
professed  pugilists.  Having  handed  one  pair  of  the  gloves 
to  his  friend  he  put  on  the  other,  and  then  bade  the  former 
to  "prepare." 

Charles  Adams  was  very  handy  at  the  play,  and  for  some 
time  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  practising  with  Orion ; 
but  in  point  of  skill  or  prowess  he  was  a  mere  child  when 
compared  with  his  friendly  tutor. 

"  It's  no  use,"  said  Adams,  at  the  end  of  some  five 
minutes,  during  which  time  he  had  been  trying  to  hit  his 
antagonist  somewhere.  "  It's  no  use.  I  can't  do  it." 

"  Do  it  in  this  way,"  returned  Orion,  laughing,  at  the 
same  time  placing  the  back  of  his  glove  very  carefully  and 
gracefully  upon  Charley's  face,  but  without  any  force. 

"  Tell  me  how  to  do  that,"  the  clerk  cried,  earnestly. 

"  Now  strike  my  face  with  all  your  might,"  said  Orion. 

Adams  made  the  attempt,  but  his  hand  passed  harm- 
lessly over  Orion's  shoulder,  and  as  he  plunged  forward 
with  the  impetus  of  the  blow  the  latter  caught  him,  and, 
with  a  ringing,  merry  laugh,  laid  him  on  the  floor.  Yet  he 
gave  his  friend  such  instruction  on  a  particular  point  as  the 
time  would  permit,  and  then  the  gloves  were  put  away. 

"  I'd  give  all  I'm  worth  if  I  could  only  possess  your 
power  and  skill,  Orion,"  said  the  clerk,  as  he  ran  his  eyes 
admiringly  over  the  handsome,  compact  frame  of  the  gold- 
beater. 

"  Practice — practice,"  returned  Orion. 

u  Ah — but  practice  won't  give  me  your  muscle." 

"  Never  mind — 'twill  give  you  a  good  substitute — 
science/1 


ORIOK—A  CURIOUS  ADVENTURE.  J 

"  Well — you  shall  teach  me.  Only  teach  me  so  that  I 
can  hit  you  once,  and  that's  all  I'll  ask." 

"  Oh—  you  may  easily  do  that." 

"  We'll  try  it,  at  all  events,"  said  Adams,  as  he  turned 
away.  "  I  shall  hold  you  to  your  promise." 

With  these  words  the  clerk  left  the  place  to  return  to  his 
store,  while  Orion  proceeded  to  put  away  the  gloves. 
After  this  the  young  gold-beater  put  on  his  coat,  and 
having  assured  himself  that  all  was  right  otherwise,  he 
closed  and  secured  the  heavy  iron  shutters,  and  then  left 
the  shop.  There  were  two  doors — one  of  wood  and  glass, 
and  one  of  iron.  These  he  closed  and  locked,  and  then 
putting  the  key  in  his  pocket  he  moved  away.  The  other 
shops  that  opened  into  the  court  were  all  closed,  and  Orion 
was  the  last  one  out. 

He  had  walked  half  the  distance  from  the  shop  to  the 
street,  when  he  was  suddenly  stopped  by  a  small  girl  rush- 
ing in  through  the  narrow  passage.  She  saw  him,  and  at 
once  ran  towards  him,  with  her  little  hands  both  stretched 
out  most  imploringly. 

"  Save  me  !  Oh,  good  sir,  save  me  !  "  she  cried,  as  she 
reached  the  place  where  he  stood,  and  clasped  one  of  his 
hands.  She  trembled  violently,  and  as  soon  as  she  thus 
stopped  she  burst  into  tears. 

She  was  very  small ;  not  over  eight  years  of  age,  with  a 
face  of  striking  beauty  ;  her  eyes  large  and  black  ;  her 
hair  floating  in  raven  ringlets  wildly  over  her  shoulders  ; 
her  dress  very  spare,  and  though  soiled  by  the  present 
muddy  state  of  the  streets,  yet  neat  and  tidy.  Her  bare 
feet — her  little  hood,  and  the  thin,  insufficient  frock  be- 
spoke her  to  be  the  child  of  poverty  and  want.  All  this 
Orion  saw  in  a  moment,  and  during  that  moment,  too,  his 
heart  went  out  in  love  and  pity  for  the  little  one. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  he  asked.     "  What  do  you  fear  ? " 

"  Oh,  those  bad  men,  sir  !  "  she  gasped,  gazing  prayer- 
fully up  through  her  tears.  "Oh,  don't  let  them  get  me  ! 
— they'll  hurt  my  good  mamma,  if  you  do  !  " 

Ere  Orion  could  speak  further,  two  men  rushed  into  the 
passage,  and  were  soon  in  the  court. 

"  Aha  !  Here  you  be,  eh  ? "  uttered  the  foremost  of 
them.  "  Here  you  be,  my  chick.  Now,  I'll  just  trouble 
you  to  come  along." 


6  ORIOtf,  THE  GOLD  BE  A  TEtt. 

Orion  knew  he  had  seen  that  face  somewhere,  and  upon  a 
closer  survey  he  remembered  the  speaker  as  one  whom  he 
had  seen  at  the  police  court,  charged  with  some  petty  theft, 
at  one  time  when  he  had  been  summoned  as  a  witness  in 
another  case. 

The  fellow's  name  was  Duffy  Glicker — a  stout,  heavy, 
burly  brute,  in  the  prime  of  physical  life,  and  known  to  the 
police  as  a  low  gambler,  thief,  and  bully.  His  companion 
was  of  the  same  kidney,  and  full  as  stout  and  heavy. 

"  No,  no,  no  !  "  shrieked  the  poor  little  one.  "  I  don't 
want  to  go  !  " 

""  Ye  don't,  eh?  Well  —  I'm  sorry  —  I  am.  But  come 
along." 

"  Stop  a  minute,"  said  Orion,  at  the  same  time  drawing 
the  girl  quickly  away  from  Clicker's  grasp.  "  What  do  you 
want  with  this  child  ?  " 

Mr.  Duffy  Glicker  straightened  uj>  and  gazed  upon  the 
youth  with  a  sort  of  condescending  wonder.  He  measured 
the  light  frame  with  his  eye — for  he  judged  everything  of 
that  kind  by  its  bulk — and  then  said  : 

"  What's  that  to  you  ? " 

"  It's  this  much  to  me,"  returned  Orion,  calmly :  "  I 
would  know  how  much  right  you  have  to  the  girl.  She 
has  claimed  my  protection,  and — " 

"  Your  protection  !  Ha,  ha,  ha.  Your  protection.  Well, 
we'll  just  take  her  off'm  yer  hands.  Come  along,  you 
little—" 

But  Duffy  was  interrupted  in  turn,  for  Orion  again  pulled 
the  little  one  from  him. 

"  Tell  me,  child,  who  these  men  are  ?  "  he  inquired,  turn- 
ing to  the  little  girl,  as  he  drew  her  close  to  his  side. 

"They're  wicked  men,  sir  ;  and  they  want  to  find  my 
mamma.  She  has  got  away  from  them  once,  and  now  they 
say  they  will  kill  me  if  I  don't  tell  them  where  she  is.  Oh, 
don't  let  them  !  Don't !  don't ! 

"  Look  'e,  my  fine  cove,"  cried  Glicker,  beginning  to 
show  his  temper,  "  just  mind  your  own  business,  and  don't 
trouble  yourself  with  mine.  Ye  may  get  yer  head  broke 
if  yer  don't  look  out.  D'ye  mind  that  ?  "  And  then  turn- 
ing to  his  companion  he  added  : 

"  Say,  Bill — nab  the  brat,  and  I'll  just  pop  this  cove  if  he 
meddles.  Come — quick." 


ORION— A  CURIOUS  ADVENTURE.  7 

The  little  girl  uttered  a  low,  quick  cry  of  terror  as  she 
saw  the  second  wretch  start  towards  her,  but  he  did  not 
reach  her ;  Orion  caught  her  by  the  arms,  and  having 
darted  back  a  few  paces  he  placed  her  behind  him,  and 
then  turned  towards  the  two  scamps. 

"  Stop  !  "  he  cried,  as  they  started  to  advance.  "  If  you 
have  any  right  to  this  girl  you  can  prove  it.  I  shall  keep 
her  now,  and  if  she  belongs  to  you,  you  can  easily  claim 
her.  But  mark  me,  you  can't  have  her  now  ;  so  clear  out. 
Come — away  you  go  !" 

"  Well !  "  burst  from  Mr.  dicker's  lips,  in  astonishment. 
"  Here's  a  rum  go,  an'  no  mistake.  Bill  Slumpkey,  what'll 
we  do  with  him  ? — put  him  in  our  boots,  or  land  him  in  the 
gutter  ? " 

"  Dump  him  !  "  returned  the  individual  who  bore  the 
euphonious  name  of  Slumpkey,  with  a  hearty  oath. 
"  Dump  him  !  " 

"  That's  the  go/'  added  Glicker,  and  then,  turning  to 
Orion,  he  resumed  : 

"  Now  look'ee  :  I  don't  want  to  kick  up  a  fuss  here,  but 
give  me  that  little  'un.  Give  her  to  me,  I  say,  or  I'll  give 
ye  a  poke  that'll  make  ye  think  yer  head's  got  lightnin* 
dancin'  through  it  !  " 

"  Stand  back  !  "  ordered  Orion.  "  This  girl  you  cannot 
have  to-night !  " 

"  Can't,  eh  ?  By  the  holy  poker,  we'll  see  !  Ah— take 
that !  " 

But  Mr.  Duffy  Glicker  found  himself  slightly  at  fault. 
As  he  spoke  he  had  aimed  a  crashing  blow  at  the  youth's 
head,  but  instead  of  striking  as  he  had  planned  he  felt 
something  fall  on  his  own  face,  and  immediately  afterwards 
something  else  fell  upon  the  wet  pavement.  This  some- 
else  was  nothing  less  than  the  doughty  Mr.  Glicker  him- 
self. 

Bill  Slumpkey  gazed  just  long  enough  to  assure  himself 
that  his  companion  had  really  fallen,  and  then  he  sprang 
upon  the  gold-beater  like  a  tiger.  Orion  saw  in  an  instant 
that  the  fellow  had  more  strength  than  wit,  and  with  a 
simple  movement  he  passed  the  huge  fist  over  his  left 
shoulder,  and  at  the  same  time,  by  a  blow  such  as  few  men 
could  strike,  he  landed  Mr,  Slumpkey  by  the  side  of  his 
companion. 


8  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

By  this  time  Glicker  had  partially  recovered,  and  when 
he  realized  that  his  mate  was  down  he  sprang  to  his  feet 
and  dashed  at  the  youth  again. 

"  Beware  !  "    cried  Orion.     "  I  don't  want  to  hurt  you." 

"  I  see  yer  play,"  the  villain  gasped,  puffing  the  blood 
from  his  lips  ;  and  as  he  spoke  he  came  on  again,  and 
again  he  was  knocked  senseless  to  the  pavement. 

Slumpkey  staggered  to  his  feet,  and  having  gazed  for  a 
moment  upon  his  fallen  companion  he  uttered  a  fearful 
oath,  and  rushed  a  second  time  upon  our  hero.  The  youth 
was  desirous  of  terminating  the  scene.  He  felt  that  in  no 
way  was  he  to  blame,  and  he  simply  determined  to  conquer 
the  miserable  wretches  at  once. 

"  Hark  ye,  "  he  cried  to  Slumpkey,  as  the  latter  came 
rushing  on.  "Now  leave  me,  and  you  shall  go  in  peace; 
but  raise  your  hand  against  me  again  and  you  shall  suffer. 
Do  you  mind  ?" 

"  Get  out !  "  the  bully  returned.  "  I'll  give  you  a  taste 
of  another  game." 

His  intention  evidently  was  to  grasp  the  youth  in  his 
arms,  and  then  crush  him;  but  he  missed  his  object.  Orion 
knocked  him  down  again,  and  immediately  afterwards 
dropped  Glicker  for  the  third  time.  Then  he  turned  to  the 
little  one,  and  taking  her  quickly  by  the  hand,  passed  out 
into  Broadway,  and  having  gained  a  safe  distance,  he 
stopped  beneath  a  gas-light  and  drew  the  girl  up  before 
him. 

'  What  is  your  name  ? "  he  asked. 

i  Lizzie  Milmer,  sir,  "  she  replied,  in  a  pretty  tone. 

'  Have  you  got  a  father  and  mother  ?  " 

!  Yes,  sir;  but  my  papa  is  very  sick." 

1  Where  do  they  live  ?  " 

*  Down  on  the  Five  Points — on  Little  Water  Street,  sir." 

1  Well,  now,  will  you  go  along  with  me  to-night,  and  get 
some  good  supper,  and  a  pair  of  shoes,  and  sleep  in  a  good, 
warm  bed,  or  will  you  go  home  ? " 

The  poor  child  bowed  her  little  head,  and  after  awhile 
she  looked  up  through  gathering  tears  and  said — 

"  I'll  go  home  with  you,  sir,  if  you'll — you'll — " 

"  Well,  speak  on.     Don't  be  afraid," 

"  Oh,  sir — if  you  would  only  give  me  something  for  my 
poor,  good  mamma— and  for  my  papa^  Oh,  sir— they're  nqt 


A  CATASTROPHE.  9 

bad  people — indeed  they  are  not.  They  never  drink  rum, 
nor  talk  wicked  talk.  Oh,  sir — " 

"  Generous  child!"  cried  Orion,  pressing  the  little  one 
warmly  to  him,  "  they  shall  be  helped.  They  will  not  be 
frightened  if  you  do  not  come  home  to-night,  will  they  ?  " 

"  Not  much,  sir.  They'll  think  I've  got  belated  some- 
where, as  I  have  done  before." 

"  Then  come  along  with  me,  and  in  the  morning  I'll  go 
down  and  see  your  parents ;  come — you  have  nothing  more 
to  fear." 

Thus  speaking,  the  gold-beater  turned  on  his  way,  and 
the  child  clung  to  him  closely  and  fondly.  Her  simple  un- 
derstanding comprehended  that  she  was  with  one  in  whose 
honor  and  truth  she  could  confide,  and  as  she  pattered  along 
the  cold  pavement  till  they  could  find  a  stage  in  which  there 
was  room  for  them,  she  forgot  all  her  sorrows  in  the  new 
gratitude  that  had  sprung  to  life  within  her  soul;  for  her 
thoughts  were  turned  heavenwards  as,  from  her  childish 
heart,  she  called  down  blessings  upon  the  head  of  her 
friend. 


CHAPTER  II. 

A    CATASTROPHE. 

The  narrow,  road-like  continuation  of  Broadway  "  up 
town,  "  is  a  very  different  affair  from  Broadway  "  down 
town.  "  Not  far  above  Twenty-Ninth  Street,  on  this 
same  Broadway,  stood  a  small  frame  house,  neatly  and  taste- 
fully arranged,  situated  some  distance  from  the  street, 
''with  a  long  garden  in  front. 

It  was  a  cottage-built  dwelling,  and  bore  to  the  beholder 
at  once  some  idea  of  comfort  and  of  home.  Within  one  of 
the  lower  rooms,  and  close  by  the  small  centre-table  above 
which  burned  a  gas-light,  was  seated  a  middle-aged  woman 
engaged  in  sewing.  She  was  not  over  forty  years  of  age  ; 
small  and  delicate  in  frame,  with  her  hair  still  glossy  and 
brown,  and  her  dark  blue  eyes  full  and  lustrous,  and  pos- 
sessing yet  a  wondrous  beauty. 

No  man  could  have  gazed  into  that  pale,  melancholy  face 


io  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

without  being  moved  by  the  strange  beauty  that  rested 
upon  the  delicate  features.  It  was  a  hopeful,  prayerful,  sub- 
dued expression,  full  of  gentleness  and  love,  and  beaming 
with  soul  and  noble  thought.  There  was  no  trace  of  sor- 
row upon  the  fair  brow,  nor  yet  was  there  any  of  that 
blithe,  merry  joy  which  we  often  find  upon  the  faces  of 
those  who  are  contented  and  happy  ;  but  the  look  was  one 
of  perfect  peace  and  good-will  induced  by  prayer  and 
resignation.  There  were  shades  upon  the  features — a  sim- 
ple line  upon  the  brow,  a  peculiar  melancholy  light  of  the 
eye,  and  a  cast  of  the  cheek  and  lip,  which  plainly  revealed 
to  the  close  student  of  humanity  that  a  great  sorrow  had  at 
some  time  fallen  upon  her  ;  and  though  she  could  not  for- 
get it,  nor  separate  it  from  her  life,  yet  she  so  far  over- 
came it  as  to  be  happy  and  peaceful.  Such  was  Catherine 
Lindell — and  surely  she  was  one  whom  no  acquaintance 
could  help  loving  truly  and  well.  She  was  the  angel  of  the 
sick-bed  to  those  who  lay  in  physical  pain  ;  the  harbinger 
of  peace  to  those  who  suffered  wrong  ;  and  the  bright 
spirit  of  relief  to  those  who  were  bowed  down  beneath 
poverty  and  want.  From  her  own  scanty  store  she  could 
afford  much,  and  often  did  she  share  her  neighbors'  want 
that  they  might  be  blessed  from  her  narrow  means. 

The  night  had  set  in,  and  without  it  was  pitchy  dark. 
Ever  and  anon  Mrs.  Lindell  would  stop  her  needle  as  some 
noise  from  the  street  fell  upon  her  ear,  and  several  times 
she  went  to  the  window  and  looked  out.  At  length,  just 
as  the  little  clock  upon  the  mantel  struck  eight,  she  heard 
the  gate  opened,  and  in  a  moment  more  came  the  well- 
known  footfall  upon  the  flagging.  She  hurried  to  the  door, 
and  opened  it  just  in  time  to  admit  her  son.  A  warm  kiss 
was  exchanged,  and  then  the  latter  said, — 

"  I  trust  you  have  not  worried  for  me,  mother." 

"  No,  no,  Orion, — I  have  not  worried  ;  but  yet  you  are 
later  than  usual." 

"  Aye,  for  I  have  had  business.  See — here  is  a  poor 
child  for  whom  I  have  been  purchasing  stockings  and 
shoes.  She  is  a  good  little  girl,  I'm  sure,  and  we  must  love 
her." 

Without  speaking,  Mrs.  Lindell  hastened  back  into  the 
sitting-room,  and  Orion  followed  her,  leading  little  Lizzie 
Milmer  by  the  hand.  As  soon  as  he  sat  down  he  related 


A  CATASTROPHE.  II 

all  the  circumstances  attending  the  finding  of  the  child, 
omitting  only  the  little  passage-at-arms  between  himself 
and  the  two  gentlemen  from  whom  Lizzie  fled.  As  he 
ceased  speaking  his  mother  called  the  child  to  her  side  and 
drew  her  upon  her  knee.  Then  she  brushed  back  the  raven 
hair  from  the  open  brow,  and  gazed  into  those  large,  dark 
eyes — strange  eyes,  they  were,  so  dark  and  brilliant,  when 
contrasted  with  the  pale  cheek  and  delicate  features.  Mrs. 
Lindell  at  once  read  a  noble  character  in  the  little  one,  and 
her  own  face  wore  a  look  of  affectionate  sympathy. 

"  Tell  me  about  your  papa  and  mamma,  "  she  said,  draw- 
ing the  child  to  her  bosom,  and  imprinting  a  kiss  upon  her 
fair  brow. 

"  Suppose  we  have  some  supper  first,  "  interposed  Orion, 
with  a  smile. 

"  Well — I  had  entirely  forgotten  supper,  "  returned  the 
mother  with  a  light  laugh.  "  On  the  whole,  I  think,  a  little 
food  would  be  better  than  story-telling  for  our  pretty  child. 
The  meal  is  all  ready.  " 

Thus  speaking  she  arose,  still  holding  Lizzie  in  her  arms, 
and  led  the  way  to  the  rear  apartment,  where  a  coal  fire 
was  burning  in  the  small  range,  and  where  the  supper-table 
was  all  set.  The  eyes  of  the  poor  child  filled  with  tears 
many  times  as  her  friends  spoke  so  kindly  to  her,  and  grati- 
tude was  apparent  in  her  every  look.  As  she  took  a  small  cake, 
towards  the  close  of  the  meal,  she  struggled  hard  with  her 
feelings,  but  was  finally  obliged  to  lay  the  cake  down,  for 
the  flood  could  be  no  longer  stayed.  She  burst  into  tears, 
and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 

"  Dear  Lizzie,  "  muttered  Mrs.  Lindell,  laying  her  .hand 
upon  the  poor  girl's  head,  "what  is  it?"  What's  the 
matter  ? " 

But  the  child  could  not  speak. 

"  Tell  me,  Lizzie, "  urged  Orion,  "  what  makes  you 
cry  ? " 

For  a  while  this  renewed  earnestness  of  love  only  made 
her  weep  the  more,  but  at  length  she  so  far  overcame  her 
emotions  as  to  be  able  to  speak,  and  in  a  choking  tone  she 
said  : 

«  Oh — I  was  wishing  that  my  papa  and  mamma  could  be 
loved  like  you  love  me.  Oh,  they  are  very  unhappy,  and 
nobody  loves  them !  " 


12  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

"  Nobody  ? "  inquired  the  woman.  "  Do  you  think  no  one 
loves  them  ?" 

"  Perhaps  God  loves  them.     Do  you  think  he  does?" 

"  Of  course,  my  child.  God  loves  all  his  children.  But 
cheer  up.  We  will  love  your  papa  and  mamma. " 

At  length  Mrs.  Lindell  succeeded  in  calming  the  child's 
emotions,  and  when  the  meal  was  ended  they  returned  to 
the  front  room,  where  Lizzie  told  her  simple  story. 

She  could  only  tell  that  her  father  was  a  book-binder  by 
trade;  that  he  had  been  sick  for  some  time,  and  had  conse- 
quently become  poor.  Once  they  had  a  good  home,  and 
were  comfortable  and  happy,  but  now  they  could  no  longer 
enjoy  any  of  the  comforts  of  life.  They  only  strove  to  keep 
life  in  their  bodies. 

"  But  what  did  those  two  men  want  of  your  mamma  ? " 
asked  Mrs.  Lindell,  who  had  now  gained  the  entire  con- 
fidence of  the  child. 

"  It  isn't  both  of  them,"  said  Lizzie,  very  earnestly. 
"  It's  only  Duffy  Glicker  that  wants  her.  I  don't  know 
exactly  what  it  is — only  I  know  mamma  is  afraid  of  him.  He 
wants  her  to  do  something  when  my  papa  is  dead.  Oh,  he 
is  a  very  wicked  man  !  " 

The  hostess  drew  the  fair  unfortunate  upon  her  bosom 
and  kissed  her,  and  then  asked  her  if  she  wouldn't  like  to 
go  to  bed.  She  said  yes,  and  Mrs.  Lindell  soon  prepared 
a  little  bed  in  her  own  room,  into  which  the  child  was  put. 
Then  she  sat  down  by  her  side  and  taught  her  a  simple 
prayer,  and  sang  sweetly  to  her  until  she  fell  asleep. 

For  a  long  time  after  Mrs.  Lindell  returned  to  her  sitting- 
room  she  and  her  son  talked  the  matter  over,  and  they 
selected  some  few  things  which  he  was  to  take  to  the  suffer- 
ing ones  in  the  morning.  After  this  they  related  to  each 
other,  as  was  their  wont,  the  affairs  of  the  day,  and  then 
retired  for  the  night. 

On  the  following  morning,  Orion  and  his  mother  were 
early  astir.  The  fog  of  the  preceeding  day  had  all  gone, 
and  the  sun  arose  bright  and  clear,  with  the  prospect  of 
warm  and  pleasant  weather.  Breakfast  was  soon  prepared, 
and  then  Lizzie  was  aroused  from  her  deep  slumbers.  She 
smiled  when  she  started  up,  and  her  first  utterance  was, 
that  she  had  had  a  very  good  dream.  When  she  was  all 
washed  clean,  and  her  fine  silken  hair  combed,  and  her 


A   CATASTROPHE.  *3 

dried  and  cleaned  garments  put  on,  she  looked  very  pretty 
and  sweet.  She  threw  her  arms  about  Mrs.  LindeH's  neck 
and  kissed  her,  and  then,  while  the  warm  tears  gushed 
from  her  eyes,  she  murmured: 

"  Oh  how  good  you  are  to  me  !  " 

The  woman  returned  the  kiss,  and  then  led  the  way  to 
the  breakfast-table.  The  meal  was  eaten,  and  Orion  had 
just  arisen  from  the  table,  when  a  loud  noise  in  the  street 
attracted  his  attention.  He  heard  the  sound  of  loud  voices, 
and  saw  men  running  down  the  street.  Seizing  his  hat  he 
rushed  out,  and  as  he  reached  the  sidewalk  he  saw  a  span 
of  horses  coming  up  Broadway  at  a  furious  gallop,  with  a 
coach  behind  them  on  three  wheels.  He  could  see  that 
there  were  people  in  the  coach,  and  that  they  had  not  only 
lost  all  control  of  the  horses,  but  of  themselves  as  well. 
Many  men  ran  out  in  front  of  the  furious  animals,  and 
swung  their  hats  and  cried  out,  but  they  darted  back  as  the 
infuriated  horses  came  crashing  on,  and  all  their  efforts 
seemed  only  to  frighten  them  more.  In  the  forward  part 
of  the  coach  was  a  woman,  whose  hands  were  clasped  upon 
the  silver  rod  of  the  dasher,  and  who  cried  aloud  for  help — 
for  mercy — for  God  to  save  them !  Soon  a  cry  of  horror 
went  up  from  the  multitude.  The  horses  were  dashing 
towards  a  post  upon  the  roadside.  On  they  flew — the 
coach,  with  its  shattered  axletree,  struck  the  immovable 
obstacle  —  the  shock  came,  and  the  girl  by  the  dasher 
was  hurled  forward  and  caught  upon  the  pole,  the  reins 
and  straps  strangely  catching  and  holding  her.  The  car- 
riage was  crushed  by  the  concussion,  and  away  went  the 
horses  without  it. 

The  people  now  stood  transfixed  with  horror  !  The  ill- 
fated  woman  could  no  longer  cry  out,  or  if  she  did  it  was 
in  a  tone  so  weak  that  no  one  could  hear  her.  That  she 
must  be  instantly  killed  seemed  apparent  to  all.  She  was 
fast  to  the  tangled  harness,  directly  between  the  horses, 
and  her  garments  were  quickly  torn  to  shreds.  Orion  saw 
the  whole  at  a  single  glance,  and,  under  the  influence  of  a 
will  which  no  fear  of  earth  could  have  swerved,  he  darted 
into  the  middle  of  the  street  and  faced  the  coming  horses. 
He  measured  the  distance  instantly,  and  with  his  body 
firmly  braced  he  extended  both  his  arms  and  called  out 
boldly  and  authoritatively  for  the  animals  to  $tpp.  A  hun« 


14  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

dred  voices  shouted  for  him  to  come  back,  but  he  heeded 
them  not. 

A  horse  knows  very  well  when  a  man  is  afraid  of  him, 
and  when  he  is  not  ;  and  he  can  distinguish,  too,  the  tone 
of  command  from  the  yell  of  fear.  As  the  two  animals  saw 
Orion  and  heard  his  voice,  they  seemed  to  hesitate,  but 
yet  they  dashed  on.  They  appeared  to  believe  that  he 
would  flee  from  before  them  as  all  others  had  done  ;  but 
he  did  not,  and  when  they  came  upon  him,  and  met  the 
calm,  determined  fire  of  his  expressive  eyes,  and  heard  his 
tone  of  command,  they  would  have  stopped  if  they  could, 
but  their  fearful  impetus  was  not  so  easily  to  be  overcome. 
With  a  quick  movement,  Orion  grasped  both  the  check- 
reins  at  the  same  time,  being  careful  to  keep  between  the 
horses,  so  that  their  feet  should  not  strike  him,  and  then, 
with  an  effort  as  wondrous  in  its  execution  as  it  was  re- 
markable in  its  conception,  he  raised  himself  from  the 
ground,  thus  bearing  his  whole  weight  upon  their  checked 
heads.  They  made  a  few  spasmodic  bounds  after  this,  and 
then  stopped.  Their  sides  and  flanks  were  bathed  in  white 
foam,  and  they  trembled  as  though  their  limbs  would  almost 
fall  asunder. 

An  instant  of  silence  followed  this  astounding  feat,  and 
then  the  shout  went  up.  But  Orion  stopped  not  to  listen 
to  the  encomiums  that  were  showered  upon  him.  He 
called  a  couple  of  stout  men  to  come  and  hold  the  horses, 
and  then  he  hastened  around  to  the  unfortunate  one  whom 
he  feared  he  should  find  dead.  When  he  commenced  to 
clear  her  from  the  harness  he  found  that  her  arm  had 
plunged  through  the  breeching,  while  one  of  the  tugs,  or 
traces,  had  got  a  turn  around  the  elbow.  Thus  had  she 
been  dragged  by  that  one  arm,  and  of  course  it  was  broken. 
It  required  but  a  few  moments  for  our  hero  to  cast  off  the 
fell  lashings,  and  then  taking  the  girl  up  in  his  stout  arms 
he  bore  her  at  once  into  his  own  dwelling,  almost  directly 
in  front  of  which  the  horses  had  been  stopped.  A  physi- 
cian—  one  in  whom  Orion  had  full  confidence  —  was  at 
hand,  having  been  attracted  by  the  noise,  and  he  immedi- 
ately attended  upon  the  sufferer.  There  was  a  disposition 
on  the  part  of  some  of  the  members  of  the  crowd  to  rush 
int$  the  house,  but  the  youth  soon  managed  to  calm  them, 
anrf  having  assured  them  that  everything  should  be  don§ 


A  CATASTROPHE.  15 

for  the  woman's  benefit  which  human  care  could  accom- 
plish, he  persuaded  them  to  disperse,  or  go  and  see  if  any 
one  was  hurt  at  the  shattered  coach.  Some  of  the  more 
earnest  would  not  leave  until  they  were  assured  that  the 
girl  would  live  ;  and  finally,  to  satisfy  them,  the  physician 
came  out  and  gave  them  the  assurance  they  wanted,  but  at 
the  same  time  informed  them  that  her  safety  depended 
upon  the  quietness  they  could  preserve  about  her. 

After  this  the  crowd  went  away,  and  though  there  was 
still  some  noise  in  the  quarter  where  the  coach  lay,  yet  it 
did  not  penetrate  with  any  power  into  the  gold-beater's 
cottage. 

When  Orion  returned  to  the  room  where  he  had  left  the 
girl,  he  found  her  insensible,  though  she  had  seemed  to  be 
perfectly  conscious  when  he  carried  her  in. 

"  It's  better  as  it  is,"  said  the  physician  ;  "  Her  left  arm 
is  broken  in  three  places,  and  perhaps  we  can  set  it  without 
any  consciousness  of  pain  on  her  part." 

The  physician  required  Orion's  help  in  setting  the  bone, 
and  he  found  it  very  effective,  for  in  addition  to  an  excel- 
lent judgment  he  found  the  youth  to  possess  an  amount  of 
physical  power  which  set  aside  all  need  of  straps  and 
pulleys,  in  bringing  the  bones  to  their  places.  The  arm 
was  broken  once  above  the  elbow,  and  twice  below  it,  but 
it  was  set  without  much  difficulty,  and  as  soon  as  such 
rough  splints  as  were  at  hand  had  been  applied,  the  doctor 
turned  his  attention  to  the  other  injuries.  There  was  a 
bruise  upon  the  head,  just  over  the  left  ear,  but  the  skull 
was  not  at  all  fractured.  Then  there  was  a  deep  wound 
upon  the  left  shoulder,  and  some  other  bruises  about  the 
body.  To  help  to  fix  these  Orion  left  his  mother,  and 
having  received  a  further  assurance  from  the  physician 
that  the  patient  was  out  of  inevitable  danger,  he  left  the 
apartment. 

When  he  reached  the  front  room  he  found  quite  a  crowd 
in  the  yard,  and  soon  saw  a  gentleman  and  lady  coming  up 
the  walk.  The  former  limped  considerably,  and  walked 
with  evident  pain.  Orion  hastened  to  the  door  to  admit 
them,  for  he  supposed  at  once  that  they  had  been  inmates 
of  the  coach,  and  they  might  be  the  parents  of  the  injured 
girl.  The  man  was  a  tall,  well-built  person,  with  a  proud, 
noble  bearing,  and  some  five-and-forty  years  of  age.  His 


1 6  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

hair,  which  was  of  a  nut-brown  hue,  curled  handsomely  about 
his  high  brow,  and  his  large,  dark  hazel  eyes  had  a  fire  of 
more  than  ordinary  intelligence  and  meaning.  His  dress 
and  general  appearance  betrayed  the  wealthy  man. 

The  woman  was  full  as  old  as  her  companion,  if  not 
older,  and  though  she  possessed  some  traits  of  beauty,  yet 
the  intelligent  beholder  would  see  at  a  glance  that  she  was 
one  of  those  who  had  worn  themselves  down  by  rich  food, 
strong  wines,  and  unseasonable  hours.  She  was  tall  and 
rather  slim,  with  a  proud,  overbearing  look  ;  a  face  very 
pale  and  wan,  and  wearing  an  expression  of  haughty 
disdain  of  all  below  her.  Her  garb  was  such  as  only  a 
child  of  wealth  could  wear. 

"  Miss  Durand  was  brought  in  here,  was  she  not,  sir  ? " 
asked  the  gentleman,  after  he  had  taken  a  seat. 

"  The  young  lady  who  was  injured  by  being  dragged 
away  by  the  horses  is  here,  sir,"  answered  Orion. 

"That  is  the  one.     Is  she  much  injured  ? " 

"  Well — yes,  sir  ;  but  not  dangerously  so.  Her  left  arm 
is  broken  in  three  places,  and  she  has  received  a  few  bruises 
beside." 

"  Poor  Ellen  !     May  I  see  her,  dear  sir  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  you  had  better  not  go  in  quite  yet,  sir,"  re- 
turned Orion.  "  The  physician  is  dressing  her  wounds, 
and—" 

"Ah — I  understand.  Yes,  yes.  But  my  wife  may  go 
in?" 

"  Certainly — certainly,  sir." 

"  Me  ?  "  uttered  the  lady,  starting  up  from  a  reverie  into 
which  she  had  fallen  while  gazing  on  little  Lizzie,  who  sat 
in  one  corner  of  the  room.  "  Me  go  into  the  place  where 
they  are  dressing  wounds  ?  Would  you  kill  me  outright  ?  " 

u  No,  no,  Julia — I  only  thought  you  might  be  of  some 
help  to  our  poor  Ellen." 

"  Isn't  there  blood  running,  young  sir  ? "  the  woman 
asked  of  Orion. 

"  There  is,  madam,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  how  dreadful !  Me  go  in  and  see  blood  !  You 
should  know  my  delicate  constitution  better,  Mr.  Tiver- 
ton  ? " 

"  Never  mind,  my  dear.  I  wouldn't  have  you  go  in  by 
any  means,  if  you  think  it  would  hurt  you." 


A  CATASTROPHE.  17 

"  Hurt  me  ?  "  echoed  the  lady,  shuddering.  "  It  hurts 
me  to  be  so  near  her  as  I  am  now.  She  may  groan.  Have 
they  set  her  arm  yet,  sir  ?  " 

"  Yes,  madam,"  answered  our  hero. 

"  And  didn't  she  groan  ?  " 

"  She  was  insensible  then,  and  did  not  probably  realize 
any  pain." 

"  But  they  are  dressing  bloody  wounds  now,  you  say  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Then  she  may  wake  up  and  groan.  Little  girl — here 
— go  in  and  tell  Ellen  not  to  groan  if  she  comes  to.  Tell 
her  she  mustn't.  Tell  her  I  am  here — Mrs.  T.  Oh  !  if  she 
should  groan  it  would  shake  my  poor  frame  so  terribly  ! 
Hurry,  little  girl." 

Lizzie  cast  an  inquisitive  glance  at  Orion,  and  he  mo- 
tioned her  to  come  to  him.  She  did  so,  and  he  whispered 
in  her  ear  that  she  should  run  up  into  the  chamber  where 
she  slept  and  stay  there  until  he  called  her.  She  had 
started  to  go,  when  Mrs.  Tiverton — for  so  Orion  knew  her 
name  must  be — called  to  her,  and  she  moved  tremblingly 
to  the  lady's  side. 

"  Who  are  you  ? "  she  asked,  gazing  fixedly  into  the 
child's  face. 

The  woman  looked  so  sharply  and  so  strangely  upon  her 
that  Lizzie  was  at  first  afraid,  but  she  gradually  overcame 
the  difficulty,  and  would  have  replied  properly  had  not  the 
former  spoken  again. 

"  Who  are  you  ? "  she  asked,  eagerly,  gazing  more 
earnestly  than  before  into  the  thin,  pale  face. 

At  this  point  Orion  spoke,  and  in  a  few  words  told  the 
child's  story. 

"  Oh  !  oh  !  oh  !  "  uttered  Mrs.  Tiverton,  in  a  quick  scream, 
at  the  same  time  pushing  the  child  from  her.  "  From  the 
Five  Points  ?  Mercy  !  You'll  give  me  the  plague  !  Don't 
come  near  me  again  !  Oh  !  " 

At  this  juncture  a  carriage  stopped  at  the  gate,  and  the 
nervous  woman  started  to  her  feet. 

"  There  is  our  coach,"  she  said.  "  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  ! 
Come,  Mr.  Tiverton,  let's  get  away  from  here.  We  will  let 
these  people  take  care  of  Ellen,  and  then  we  can  pay  them." 

"  We  do  not  keep  a  hospital  here,  madam,"  said  Orion, 
quickly  and  proudly. 


1 8  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

"  But  you  will  allow  the  poor  girl  to  remain  here  until 
she  can  be  removed  with  safety,  sir?"  urged  the  gentle- 
man, earnestly  and  beseechingly. 

"  Of  course  we  will,  sir,"  returned  the  youth,  kindly,  for 
he  liked  the  speaker's  tone.  "  I  only  meant  that  we  do  not 
perform  our  holy  duties  for  pay  !  " 

"  Ah — I  understand,"  said  Mr.  Tiverton  ;  and  then  ap- 
proahing  near  enough  to  speak  without  being  heard  by  his 
wife,  he  added  : 

"  I  will  be  here  this  afternoon,  if  I  can  walk.  Or  I  will 
be  here  at  all  events.  Be  careful  of  Ellen.  She  is  a 
precious  being." 

Orion  gave  a  whispered  assurance ;  and  then  having 
grasped  the  youth's  hand  warmly,  Mr.  Tiverton  turned 
away  and  limped  from  the  house  with  his  wife  in  company, 
the  latter  giving  utterance  to  an  exclamation  of  satisfaction 
as  she  got  clear  of  the  humble  roof. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    HOME    OF    THE    DYING. 

ORION  stood  by  the  window  and  watched  the  departing 
couple  until  they  had  been  helped  into  the  coach  and 
driven  off.  When  he  turned  he  found  little  Lizzie,  who 
had  come  down  from  the  chamber,  standing  by  his  side 
and  gazing  wistfully  up  into  his  face. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  he  said,  thinking  from  her  look  that  she 
wished  to  say  something,  and  at  the  same  time  taking  her 
hand  and  smiling  kindly  upon  her. 

"  That  woman,  sir,"  she  uttered,  with  a  tremulous  emo- 
tion :  "  who  is  she  ? " 

"  Her  name  is  Tiverton,  my  child." 

"  But  she  is  very  rich,  isn't  she  ?" 

"  I  think  she  is." 

The  child  bent  her  head  and  gazed  down  upon  the  floor 
for  some  moments,  and  at  length  she  looked  up  again,  and 
in  a  strange,  wandering  tone,  she  said  : 


THE  HOME   OF   THE  DYING.  19 

"  She  is  a  very  strange  woman.  How  she  looked  at  me  ! 
I  was  afraid  of  her.  I  think  I  have  dreamed  about  that 
woman.  Don't  you  think  I  have  !  " 

Orion  smiled  at  the  curious  question,  but  the  smile 
quickly  passed  away,  for  there  was  something  remarkable 
about  the  circumstance.  He  remembered  how  the  woman 
had  gazed  upon  the  little  one  ;  and  how  she  had  called  her 
to  her  side  ;  and  then  how  strangely  she  had  regarded  her. 
And  now  for  the  child  to  hold  an  impression  of  having  seen 
the  lady  before — it  was  curious,  to  say  the  very  least.  How- 
ever, it  might  be  only  some  peculiar  coincidence  of  likeness, 
or  something  of  that  kind,  and  the  youth  was  about  to  dis- 
miss the  subject  from  his  mind,  when  Lizzie  spoke  again. 

"  Do  you  think  she  will  ever  come  to  see  me  !  "  she 
asked,  with  simple  earnestness. 

"  Who  ?     Mrs.  Tiverton  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Of  course  not.  Didn't  you  see  that  she  was  afraid  of 
you  ? " 

Lizzie  was  for  a  moment  hurt  by  this  remark,  but  she 
saw  a  smile  upon  Orion's  face,  and  she  knew  by  that  that  he 
only  spoke  pleasantly,  and  then  she  said,  quite  earnestly : 

"  But  she  needn't  have  been  afraid,  for  I  ain't  dirty,  nor 
am  I — a — " 

"  Pooh  !  don't  think  of  that,  Lizzie.  She  is  a  very  foolish 
woman." 

As  he  thus  spoke  the  thought  struck  him  that  there 
might  be  some  relationship  between  the  pale  child  of 
poverty  and  the  pampered  votary  of  wealth  ;  but  ere  he 
had  time  to  enlarge  upon  the  idea  the  inner  door  opened, 
and  his  mother  entered,  the  physician  following  shortly 
afterwards. 

"  How  long  before  you  are  going,  my  son  ?  "  Mrs.  Lindell 
asked. 

"  Well — I  must  go  soon,  if  you  can  spare  me." 

"  I  shall  get  along  very  well  alone.  I  only  wished  to  see 
you  before  your  left.  You  will  take  the  things  we  put  up 
last  night,  and  see  if  there  is  anything  else  you  think  of. 
Do  all  you  can  for  the  poor  people." 

"Be  sure  of  that,  my  mother.  And  now  how  is  our 
guest  ?  " 

"  The  doctor  must  tell  you  that,  for  I  dare  not  be  away 


20  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEA  TER. 

long.  Go  as  soon  you  are  ready,  and  may  God  bless  all 
your  efforts  for  the  poor  sufferers." 

Orion  pressed  his  mother's  hand,  and  having  received 
and  returned  her  kiss,  she  went  back  to  the  bed-room  where 
her  patient  lay.  That  was  a  pledge  of  affection  they  never 
failed  to  renew  whenever  they  parted  for  the  day.  It  was 
a  simple  token  of  the  great  love  they  bore  for  each  other, 
and  they  would  have  both  been  unhappy  to  separate  with- 
out it.  Orion  had  a  good  mother — one  of  the  best  on 
earth  ;  and  few  parents  were  blessed  with  so  noble,  and 
affectionate,  and  faithful  a  son. 

"  There  is  no  danger  from  the  wounds,"  the  doctor  said, 
in  answer  to  Orion's  question.  "  No  immediate,  or  direct 
danger,  I  mean.  I  found  several  severe  contusions,  and  it 
must  be  some  time  ere  she  can  be  removed.  If  there  is 
any  danger  it  must  be  from  the  fever  which  I  fear  will 
ensue.  However,  with  care,  and  with  plenty  of  fresh  air, 
I  think  she  may  come  safely  out  from  it.  She  has  one  of 
the  finest  organizations  I  ever  saw,  and  possesses  a  con- 
stitution perfectly  free  from  any  kind  of  disease.  She  is 
a  fine  specimen  of  the  true  female  development  both 
mentally  and  physically.  She  has  one  of  the  most  nobly 
balanced  brains,  and  then  her  frame  is  firmly  and  compactly 
knit,  without  the  least  heaviness  or  masculinity." 

"  How  old  is  she  ?  " 

"About  nineteen." 

"  Do  you  know  Mr.  Tiverton  ? " 

"  Tiverton  ?  "  repeated  the  doctor,  "  Do  you  mean  the 
merchant  ? " 

"  I  don't  know.  He  is  wealthy,  I  should  think.  He  was 
in  the  coach  with  his  wife,  and  they  have  both  been  here. 
They  came  and  waited  until  another  carriage,  for  which 
they  had  sent,  came  for  them. 

"  Ah — and  they  were  with  the  girl  who  is  hurt  ? " 

"  Yes.  She  must  be  their  daughter.  Mr.  Tiverton  would 
have  gone  in,  only  I  told  him  you  were  engaged  in  dress- 
ing her  wounds,  and  he  said  he  would  wait.  He  will  come 
this  afternoon." 

"  Was  he  a  tall,  handsome  man,  with  a  proud,  noble 
look  ? " 

«  Yes— exactly." 

"  Then  it  must  have  been  Paul  Tiverton.     He  is  one  of 


THE  HOME   OF   THE  DYING.  \l 

the  wealthiest  merchants  in  the  city.  I  visited  his  wife 
once.  She  is  a — a — " 

"  An  unfortunate  idiot,  suffering  torture  in  her  own 
inordinate  pride,"  suggested  the  youth,  with  a  smile. 

<f  Exactly.     Then  she  displayed  herself,  did  she  ?  " 

"  Fully.  She  cannot  have  a  very  strong  affection  for  her 
child.  Or — I  wont  say  that.  She  allows  her  whims  to 
crush  her  love  sometimes." 

"  Very  likely.     She  is  a  curious  woman." 

"  But  the  father  has  a  generous  heart,"  resumed  Orion, 
feelingly. 

"  Yes — he  is  a  good  man.  But  you  must  excuse  me 
now.  I  must  hasten  away  and  get  some  additional  fixtures 
for  that  arm." 

"  That's  right,  sir.  Do  all  you  can,  and  when  it  is  done 
I  will  be  responsible  for  the  payment." 

"  You  just  look  out  for  your  share,  my  dear  friend,"  £aid 
the  doctor,  with  a  smile.  "  If  you  will  find  room  and 
watchers,  I'll  look  out  for  my  end  of  the  beam." 

Orion  thanked  the  generous  physician,  and  then  the  latter 
left  the  place.  In  a  few  moments  more  Mrs.  Lindell  came 
out.  She  had  come  to  see  "Lizzie  before  she  went  away. 

The  kind  woman  spoke  some  words  of  comfort,  and 
having  kissed  the  little  girl  once  more,  she  turned  to  her  son. 

"  I  don't  think  I  shall  work  to-day,"  he  said.  "  I  will  go 
down  with  Lizzie,  and  then  come  home  so  as  to  be  here 
should  anything  be  wanted." 

His  mother  liked  this  arrangement,  and  having  renewed 
the  assurance  of  his  early  return,  he  helped  Lizzie  on  with 
her  hood,  and  then  taking  the  bundle  which  had  been  pre- 
pared he  turned  from  the  house.  In  a  few  moments  a  stage 
came  along,  and  into  it  the  youth  lifted  his  charge,  and 
then  followed  himself. 

During  the  ride  several  well-dressed  ladies  took  particular 
notice  of  "Lizzie,  and  whispered  together  of  her  remarkable 
beauty. 

"  What  a  strange  beauty,"  said  one.  "  I  never  saw  in 
one  so  young  so  much  of  subdued,  calm,  dignified  beauty. 
She  possesses  the  loveliness  of  maidenly  development." 

"  Ah,"  thought  Orion — and  he  came  very  near  thinking 
it  aloud,  for  he  had  overheard  the  remarks,  "  if  you  knew 
the  great  experience  that  little  heart  has  lived  you  would 


22  ORION-,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

not  wonder  at  the  development  of  which  you  speak."  And 
then  he  turned  and  gazed  again  into  the  face  of  his  little 
companion. 

Finally  the  stage  reached  the  narrow  passage  which  led 
to  the  gold-beater's  court,  and  Orion  paid  his  fare  and 
alighted.  He  went  into  the  shop,  where  he  found  the  men 
all  at  work,  Mr.  Garvey  having  given  out  the  metal  for 
beating.  Our  hero  explained  all  that  had  transpired  since 
he  left  the  shop  on  the  previous  night,  and  his  employer 
not  only  readily  excused  him  from  his  duty  for  the  day, 
but  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket  and  took  out  a  five-dollar 
bill  which  he  bade  his  foreman  expend  for  the  poor  people 
as  his  own  judgment  should  dictate.  Then  he  took  up 
the  little  one  and  kissed  her,  and  after  this  Orion  led 
her  away.  They  moved  on  to  Anthony  Street,  down 
which  they  turned,  and  ere  long  they  reached  the 
low,  filthy,  pestilential  locality  known  as  the  "  Five 
Points."  * 

Yet  Orion  found  it  much  improved  in  some  respects 
from  what  it  had  been  when  he  was  there  last  before  this. 
Where  the  "  Old  Brewery  "  had  stood,  propped  up  by  rum- 
holes,  and  loaded  with  moral  death,  now  stood  the  capacious 
brick  structure  known  as  "  The  Five  Points  Mission," 
within  which  a  spirit  was  at  work  saving  such  poor  lost 
ones  as  could  be  reached.  Yet  he  saw  misery  and  degra- 
dation enough  to  make  him  shudder.  There  were  vice  and 
crime  enough  apparent  without  much  search,  and  not  feel- 
ing in  the  mood  for  witnessing  more  scenes  of  this  kind 

*  As  this  name  is  world-wide  in  its  import  of  wretchedness  and 
poverty,  we  will  merely  say,  for  the  benefit  of  those  unacquainted  with 
the  locality,  that  here  three  streets — Cross,  Orange,  and  Anthony — come 
together  so  as  to  form  Jive  points.  Upon  this  spot  was  once  a  large 
pond,  connected  with  East  River  by  a  small  stream,  or  creek.  In  some 
places  this  pond  was  forty  or  fifty  feet  deep,  and  it  was  here  that  the  first 
trial  was  ever  made  with  a  steamboat  in  this  country.  Upon  the  corner 
of  Orange  and  Cross  streets  still  stands  a  mass  of  low,  sunken  wooden 
buildings  that  were  originally  built  upon  the  edge  of  the  pond.  The 
place  has  since  been  filled  up,  but  it  is  still  low  and  unhealthy,  though 
we  suppose  some  sanitary  measures  might  be  adopted  for  making  it 
better.  The  center  of  the  deep  pond  must  have  been  somewhere  abou* 
the  site  now  occupied  by  the  little  park,  where,  in  the  summer  time,  a 
close  observer  may  detect  something  like  giass  attempting  to  raise  its 
sickly  blades  above  the  earth. 


THE  HOME   OF   THE  DYING.  23 

than  he  could  possibly  avoid,  he  bade  Lizzie  lead  the  way 
at  once  to  her  home. 

"  It  is  right  here,"  she  said,  with  a  perceptible  shudder. 

"Where  ? "  asked  Orion,  who  had  hoped  that  she  was  not 
obliged  to  live  in  this  very  sink. 

She  pointed  to  a  place  where  a  few  rickety  wooden  steps, 
protected  by  broken  balusters,  led  up  to  an  open  door-way, 
and  said,  "  There."  She  spoke  the  word  in  a  faint  tone, 
and  seemed  to  have  been  hurt,  or  pained  in  the  pronun- 
ciation. 

The  building  was  upon  the  corner  of  Anthony  and  Little 
Water  streets.  The  basement  was  occupied  as  a  low  grog- 
gery,  of  the  worst  kind  ;  and  something  of  its  character 
may  be  known  from  the  characteristic  name  it  bore — it 
being  generally  known,  even  by  its  very  frequenters,  as 
"  The  Gate  of  Hell!  "  And  God  knows  the  name  was  no 
lie.  It  was  true — true  as  the  Death  that  reigned  within  ! 
Orion  just  looked  in  as  he  passed  the  door — he  saw  the 
crowd  of  poor  lost  ones  that  hovered  about  the  sulphurous 
flames,  blinded  by  the  fell  glare,  and  so  seared  and 
scorched  that  nearly  all  semblance  of  humanity  was  gone. 
He  groaned  within  himself.  He  said,  half  aloud,  "  God 
have  mercy  on  them  !  "  and  then  paased  on.  He  ascended 
the  dirty  steps  (the  door  he  was  to  enter  being  exactly  over 
the  door  of  the  groggery),  following  close  behind  the  girl. 
A  number  of  poor  wretches,  both  male  and  female,  stood 
around,  and  he  saw  them  glare  vacantly  upon  him,  though 
he  could  not  but  notice  that  a  feeble  light  would  spring  to 
life  in  their  eyes  as  they  saw  the  bundle  he  carried.  As  he 
entered  the  building  he  came  directly  in  front  of  an  open 
doorway  which  looked  into  a  small,  filthy  apartment,  upon 
the  floor  of  which,  among  rags,  dirt,  and  a  few  green,  wilted 
corn-husks,  lay  three  female  forms,  while  some  half-dozen 
nearly  nude  children  sat  near  them,  greedily  eating  the  tips 
of  the  green  ears  which  had  been  thrown  away  among  the 
husks — eating  them  raw  and  gritty,  and  seeming  thankful 
for  the  meal  ! 

While  the  youth  had  been  noticing  this — from  the  three 
women  he  would  have  turned  quickly  away,  but  the  poor 
little  ones  attracted  his  attention — while  noticing  this,  his 
guide  had  disappeared.  He  called  to  her,  and  heard  an 
answer  from  the  left,  He  turned  his  eyes  in  that  directidn, 


24  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

but  only  peered  into  utter  darkness.  He  could  see  that  a 
narrow  passage  opened  in  that  course,  but  he  could  only 
see  some  three  or  four  feet  from  him. 

"  Where  are  you  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Here!"  he  heard  the  tiny  voice  reply.  "Come — the 
floor  is  whole  and  strong." 

So  Orion  stretched  out  his  hands  on  either  side,  and  thus 
groped  his  way  along,  slowly  and  cautiously.  He  trod  uppn 
dirt  and  mud  so  firmly  packed  down  that  it  felt  like  a 
cemented  bottom,  while  the  foul  stench  that  pervaded  the 
place  was  almost  overpowering.  On  he  went,  ever  and 
anon  speaking  to  Lizzie  in  order  that  he  might  be  sure  he 
was  right,  and  when  she  answered  he  would  follow  on.  At 
length  the  child  opened  a  door  upon  the  right  hand,  and 
the  dim,  ghostly  light  which  was  thus  admitted  seemed  only 
to  have  the  effect  of  revealing  the  full  horror  of  the  gloom. 
He  moved  with  a  quicker  step  now,  and  when  he  reached 
the  door  he  entered.  He  stood  within  the  apartment  where 
the  child  and  her  parents  lived.  It  was  a  small,  narrow 
place,  in  the  back,  inner  corner  of  the  building,  not  over 
seven  feet  long  by  about  six  wide,  because  a  small  bedstead 
took  up  the  whole  width,  and  a  good  part  of  the  length  ; 
and  in  addition  to  this  the  ceiling  was  so  low  that  Orion 
could  scarcely  stand  upright  with  his  hat  on.  In  this  apart- 
ment was  the  bed,  a  small  table,  an  old  chest,  one  chair,  a 
stool,  and  within  a  small  niche  in  the  chimney  stood  a 
common  portable  furnace,  such  as  women  use  to  heat  their 
flat-irons  by  in  summer  time,  in  which  burned  a  few  sticks  of 
pine  kindling-wood.  This  was  the  only  cooking  apparatus 
in  the  place.  The  floor  was  worn  through  to  the  bottom 
boards  in  several  places,  but  yet  it  was  neat  and  clean, 
though  the  walls  and  ceiling,  which  could  not  be  cleaned 
without  money,  were  black  and  foul. 

Upon  the  bed  lay  a  young  man,  some  thirty  years  of  age, 
whose  jet-black  hair  and  large  black  eyes  contrasted 
strangely  with  the  marble-like  look  of  the  sunken  face.  A 
single  glance  at  those  features  was  sufficient  to  assure  the 
beholder  that  the  poor  man  had  not  long  to  stay  in  this  vale 
of  tears.  That  dread  fiend,  consumption,  had  set  its  seal 
upon  him,  and  the  dark  angel  was  near  at  hand. 

Near  the  head  of  the  bed,  when  Orion  entered,  stood  a 
woman,  She  was  small  in  frame ;  not  over  seven-and- 


THE  HOME   OF  THE  DYING.  25 

twenty  years  of  age,  and  very  pale  and  wan.  Yet  she  was 
beautiful.  Her  features  were  singularly  regular  and  sym- 
metrical in  their  outline  ;  her  eyes  of  deep,  liquid  blue,  and 
her  hair  of  a  light,  golden  brown — almost,  if  not  quite,  a 
pure  auburn.  Her  dress  was  clean,  but  scant  and  patched, 
and  the  visitor  quickly  saw  that  she  was  trying  to  hide  her 
bare  feet. 

There  was  but  one  window  to  the  room — a  little  square 
concern,  close  by  the  head  of  the  bed,  which  overlooked  a 
small  yard  in  the  rear.  This  place  was  home.  Oh,  God  ! 
and  what  a  home  !  If  that  dying  man  wanted  fresh  air 
where  was  he  to  get  it  ?  Did  they  open  the  door  there 
came  in  through  the  dark  passage,  arising  from  the  dirt 
there  and  from  the  pest-holes  beneath,  a  stench  almost  over- 
powering ;  and  if  they  opened  the  window  they  received 
the  miasma  coming  up  from  such  putrescence  in  that  yard 
as  we  will  not  describe.  Yet  it  was  there,  dear  reader — it 
was  there, — and  about  it  lived  a  hundred  human  beings 
into  whose  homes  the  fresh  air  of  earth  never  found  en- 
trance. 

And  these  two  people  were  the  parents  of  little  Lizzie.  It 
would  have  required  no  further  assurance  than  a  mere  look 
at  his  face  to  prove  that  the  man  upon  the  bed  was  her 
father  ;  and  even  of  the  light-haired  mother's  beauty  the 
child  bore  some  traces.  As  Lizzie  entered  she  flew  to  her 
mother's  embrace,  and  having  received  a  flood  of  warm 
kisses  she  turned  to  the  bed.  Her  father  reached  forth 
his  wasted  hands  and  drew  her  towards  him.  He  could  not 
speak  aloud,  but  he  impressed  a  kiss  upon  her  fair  brow, 
and  then  whispered  a  blessing. 

In  her  simple  language  the  child  quickly  explained  where 
she  had  been,  how  she  had  fared,  and  why  the  gentleman 
had  come.  Constance  Milmer  heard  her  through,  and  then 
clasped  her  small,  thin  hands  together,  and  in  a  quick, 
spasmodic  tone  she  uttered: 

"  Oh,  good  sir,  may  the  best  blessings  of  Heaven  rest 
upon  you  !  Indeed,  sir,  you  have  not  thrown  your  kind- 
ness away — upon  my  child,  I  mean." 

"  I  am  sure  of  that,  my  good  woman,"  returned  Orion, 
still  shuddering,  for  he  had  not  yet  become  used  to  the  ter- 
rible wretchedness  of  the  place.  Ah  !  tongue  and  pen  are 
inadequate  to  convey  a  living  idea  of  the  utter,  squalid  pov- 


26  ORION,  THE  GOLD  BEA  TER. 

erty  and  ghastly  horrors  of  one  of  those  places  !  "  I  am 
sure  of  that,"  our  hero  repeated.  "  I  felt  sure  your  child 
was  worthy,  and  from  her  manner  I  knew  she  must  have 
received  some  good  lessons  in  life  from  her  parents.  I 
supposed  you  would  not  refuse  to  accept  help  from  the 
hand  of  one  who  would  be  your  friend." 

The  poor  woman  was  upon  the  point  of  answering,  when 
heavy  footsteps  were  heard  in  the  dark  passage.  They 
were  not  only  heavy,  but  loud  and  clumping,  with  a  brutal, 
ugly  clang.  Constance  Milmer  started  back,  and  stood 
with  her  hands  clasped,  and  her  frame  trembling  at  every 
joint. 

"  It  is  his  step  !  "  she  gasped. 

"  Whose  ?"  asked  her  husband,  raising  his  head  with 
difficulty  from  the  pillow. 

"  Duffy   Glicker  s  !  "  she  whispered  fearfully. 

"  Ha  ! — Tell  me  what  that  man  wants.  Why  does  he 
seek  you  ?  "  quickly  uttered  Orion. 

"  Oh  !  I  can  not  tell.  He  has  a  paper — one  he  got  in  my 
native  town — but  I  know  not  what  is  in  it.  He — he — Oh, 
God  !  I  dare  not  tell  you  !  " 

The  youth  could  ask  no  more,  for  at  that  moment  the 
door  was  opened.  Little  Lizzie  uttered  a  low,  wild  cry, 
and  shrank  away  behind  her  new-found  friend  ;  the  mother 
crouched  close  to  the  bed,  as  though  instinct  still  led  her  to 
the  man  in  whom  she  once  found  protection  ;  the  dying 
man  himself  uttered  a  faint  "  God  help  us  !  "  while  Orion 
turned  just  in  season  to  see  Glicker  and  Slumpkey  enter, 
the  former  with  a  huge  bowie-knife  in  his  great  hard 
hand  ! 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    CONFLICT. — STORY    OF    A    LIFE. 

FOR  a  few  moments  Orion's  heart  beat   more  quickly 
than  was  its  wont.     His  position  was  peculiar.     Both 
the  stout,  brutal  villains  bore  upon  their  faces  the  marks 
of  the  rough  treatment  they  had  received  on  the  previous 
evening  ;  Mr.  Glicker  having  two  black  eyes,  with  several 
severe  bruises,  while  Slumpkey  had  one  black  eye,  and  a 


THE   CONFLICT.  27 

deep  cut  upon  the  under  lip.  The  youth  supposed  they 
must  have  been  hanging  around — perhaps  in  the  groggery 
underneath — and  thus  tracked  him  and  the  child  to  the 
home  of  the  woman  he  sought.  But  he  was  cut  short  in  his 
ponderings  by  the  foremost  villain  speaking. 

"  Aha  !  "  he  growled,  in  a  deep,  savage  tone,  at  the  same 
time  clutching  his  knife  more  firmly,  "  I've  found  ye  now. 
I  twig'd  ye  a-comin'  up  here.  P'r'aps  ye'll  give  us  another 
lift  of  your  maulers,  my  fine  cove,  eh  ? " 

For  a  moment  all  other  feelings  in  the  youth's  soul  were 
overcome  by  that  of  pure  and  deep  disgust.  He  gazed  into 
the  faces  of  the  two  ruffians,  and  he  could  only  see  there 
the  marks  of  low,  heartless  vice  and  wickedness. 

"  P'r'aps  ye'll  just  take  yerself  out  o'  this  now,"  resumed 
Glicker,  ere  the  young  man  had  made  any  reply.  "  I've 
got  some  private  business  here.  The  likes  of  you  don't 
have  business  here.  Mind  that.  Now  go  !  " 

Even  yet  Orion  had  not  determined  how  he  would  act. 
He  saw  the  wretch's  knife,  and  he  wondered  if  the  fellow 
meant  to  use  it.  Perhaps  he  had  only  procured  it  to  be 
used  in  case  he  had  to  defend  himself.  At  length  our  hero 
turned  towards  Constance,  at  the  same  time  being  careful 
that  the  two  interlopers  were  not  wholly  lost  sight  of. 

"  Mrs.  Milmer,"  he  said,  in  a  calm  tone,  for  his  mind  was 
about  made  up,  "  do  you  wish  these  men  to  remain 
here  ? " 

"  Oh,  no  !  no  !  "  she  gasped.  "  God  preserve  me  from 
them  !" 

"  Look  'e,  my  fine  lady,"  uttered  Glicker,  with  a  savage 
scowl,  "  you'd  better  be  keerful  how  you  swing  that  tongue 
of  yourn.  You  know  I've  got  something  that's  for  your 
advantage  as  well  as  mine,  and  I  only  want  a  chance  to  ex- 
plain it  all  out  to  ye.  And  I  want  that  chance  now.  I 
seed  this  cove  a-comin'  up,  and  I  know'd  he  was  a-comin' 
here  to  find  you,  'cause  he  had  your  young  'un  with  him  ; 
and  I  know'd  he  wouldn't  be  a-goin'  nowhere  else  with  her. 
Ha,  ha, — I  s'pose  ye  thought  ye'd  got  clear  of  me,  eh  ?  But 
ye  haint ;  and  what's  more,  ye  can't.  Now  I  want  to  talk 
with  ye." 

"  Oh  !  for  God's  sake,  spare  me  now ! "  cried  the  poor 
woman,  with  her  hands  once  more  clasped.  "  Leave  me 
with  my  sick  husband — " 


28  ORtOtf,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

"  And  yer  handsome,  nice  young  visitor,  eh  ?"  interposed 
Glicker,  with  a  broad,  coarse  sneer. 

At  these  words,  uttered,  as  they  were,  in  a  tone  of 
demoniac  meaning,  the  soul  of  the  youth  took  fire  ;  but  for 
the  presence  of  the  dying  man,  and  his  trembling  wife,  he 
would  have  stricken  the  wretch  to  the  floor.  But  while  he 
was  endeavoring  to  curb  his  wrath,  a  new  idea  presented 
itself  to  him.  He  detected  a  few  meaning  glances  which 
passed  between  the  two  villains,  and  he  felt  sure  that  they 
had  come  there  partly  to  be  revenged  upon  himself.  He 
saw  them  cast  a  furtive  look  towards  him,  and  then  ex- 
change a  succession  of  meaning  nods  and  winks.  The 
moment  this  thought  suggested  itself,  he  felt  morally  cer- 
tain of  its  truth.  It  would  not  be  reasonable  to  suppose 
that  two  such  men  would  surfer  at  his  hands  such  punish- 
ment as  they  had  received,  without  a  trial  at  revenge  when 
opportunity  should  offer.  And  what  opportunity  could 
they  have  better  than  the  present  ?  There  he  was,  in  a 
narrow  room,  away  from  the  street,  to  which  access  was 
only  to  be  had  by  the  long,  dark  passage,  and  with  no  one 
near  to  hear  any  cries  for  help,  save  a  few  poor  weak  ones, 
whom  a  child  might  have  conquered,  and  a  set  of  wretches 
who  would  be  sure  to  help  his  enemies  if  they  came.  That 
was  not  a  locality  where  his  friends  were  to  be  found,  and 
a  whole  day  might  pass  without  one  honest,  generous  man 
approaching  the  pestilential  place. 

u  Come,"  uttered  Glicker,  turning  upon  the  youth,  "  are 
ye  goin'  ? " 

Orion  saw  that  they  still  stood  by  the  door,  and  that 
Slumpkey  had  his  fists  doubled  up  ready  for  work.  He  had 
no  more  doubt  on  the  subject.  He  had  once  made  up  his 
mind  that  he  would  go  quietly  out  and  call  some  policeman 
to  go  help  him  take  the  villains  ;  but  he  was  now  satisfied 
that  he  was  not  to  be  allowed  to  do  so.  The  fellows  had  a 
fine  opportunity  for  vengeance,  and  they  were  going  to  im- 
prove it.  There  was  no  longer  any  doubt.  The  poor 
woman  stood  by  the  bed,  still  trembling  fearfully,  with  her 
hands  clasped,  and  her  lips  turned  pale  as  marble  ;  her 
husband  had  placed  his  thin,  attenuated  hands  upon  his 
brow,  and  was  groaning  painfully  ;  while  little  Lizzie  had 
left  her  new  friend  and  now  clung  to  her  mother's  dress, 


THE   CONFLICT.  29 

more  with  the  spirit  of  one  who  would  protect  than  as  one 
who  sought  safety. 

"  Come,  sir — are  ye  a-goin'  ? "  growled  Glicker,  moving 
a  step  nearer  to  our  hero. 

"  If  you  would  have  me  go,  why  don't  you  move  away 
from  the  door,  and  give  me  a  free  chance  ? "  returned 
Orion. 

"  Oho — yer  don't  like  the  turn  things  'ave  took,  eh  ? " 
Thus  spoke  Glicker,  and  then,  while  a  look  of  Tartarean 
fiendishness  dwelt  upon  his  ugly  face,  he  added  : 

"  Ye  begin  to  be  afeard,  I  take  it ;  and  just  let  me  tell 
ye  'at  ye  've  good  cause  for  it.  Ye  don't  go  out  o'  this 
place  till  ye  get  a  taste  of  what  we're  made  of  !  To  tell  ye 
the  truth,  we  mean  to  give  ye  such  a  thrashin'  as  ye  won't 
forget  in  a  hurry.  And  if  ye  outlive  it  you'll  be  lucky  !  " 

This  speech  was  interspersed  with  oaths  and  impreca- 
tions, which  we  will  not  inflict  upon  our  readers  ;  and  while 
he  spoke  his  teeth  were  ground  together,  and  the  nervous 
movement  of  his  fists,  and  the  fire  of  his  bloated,  blood- 
shot eyes,  told  that  he  was  fearfully  in  earnest. 

"  Now  look  out,"  hissed  the  villain,  with  another  brutal 
oath,  while  his  companion  moved  to  his  side,  "  for  ye  're 
a-goin'  to  ketch  it !  Your  head  ain't  worth  no  more  to  you 
than  ourn  is  to  us,  and  we'll  show  ye  that  we  don't  take 
black  eyes  for  nothin'  !  " 

a  For  God's  sake  !  "  shrieked  Constance  Milmer,  darting 
in  before  Orion,  "  don't  take  his  life !  Oh  !  don't  make 
such  a  scene  here  !  Let  him  go — let  him  go  !  " 

"  Stand  back,  woman  !  "  cried  Glicker  ;  and  as  he  spoke 
he  caught  her  by  the  arm  and  hurled  her  back  against  the 
bed.  A  low,  fearful  cry  broke  from  her  lips,  and  at  the 
same  time  a  shriek  of  terror  escaped  from  the  lips  of  the 
child. 

Orion  Lindell  was  not  the  man  to  hesitate,  or  think  of 
fear,  after  the  fate  was  upon  him.  He  never  sought  a 
quarrel — never,  and  he  would  rather  walk  away  than  to 
suffer  harm,  if  he  could  do  so  with  honor  ;  but  when  the 
pinch  came,  and  he  found  no  alternative  left,  he  was  calm 
and  cool,  knowing  nothing  of  fear ;  and  he  could  risk  his 
own  safety  for  the  welfare  of  another  as  well  as  for  himself, 
as  we  have  already  seen.  When  he  saw  Glicker  hurl  the 
poor  woman  away,  he  saw  that  the  next  movement  would 


30  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

be  upon  himself.  He  knew  it  would  be  so,  for  the  fellow's 
anger  was  now  up  and  at  work.  With  a  quick  motion  the 
youth  raised  his  foot  and  planted  it  with  all  his  power  in 
the  pit  of  the  villain's  stomach.  He  had  done  this  because 
he  knew  that  he  should  have  the  second  one  to  deal  with 
instantly.  Glicker  gave  one  involuntary  groan,  as,  with 
both  hands  clasped  upon  his  diaphragm,  he  sank  wholly 
down.  Without  stopping  to  observe  further,  Orion  leaped 
forward  and  made  one  or  two  false  passes  at  the  head  of 
Slumpkey.  The  fellow  parried  them  with  considerable 
skill,  and  seemed  quite  confident  of  an  easy  victory.  The 
third  pass  Orion  made  was  with  the  left  hand — it  was  given 
moderately,  on  purpose  that  Slumpkey  might  ward  it  off 
without  difficulty — and  then,  quick  as  thought,  that  same 
hand  was  passed  over  the  villain's  eyes,  and  in  the  next 
moment  he  received  a  blow  under  the  left  ear  that  felled 
him  to  the  floor — and  just  in  season,  too ;  for  Glicker  was 
getting  upon  his  feet.  Orion  allowed  him  to  rise,  and  then 
felled  him  as  he  had  done  the  other.  Immediately  upon 
this  he  darted  from  the  room,  and  having  gained  the  side- 
walk, he  had  the  good  fortune  to  see  two  policeman  stand- 
ing in  front  of  the  groggery  opposite  the  Mission.  He 
hurried  up  to  them,  and  asked  them  if  they  would  appre- 
hend the  two  rascals  and  carry  them  to  the  Tombs.  They 
answered  in  the  affirmative,  and  followed  the  youth  to  the 
place. 

When  they  reached  the  room,  they  found  Mr.  Bill  Slump- 
key  sitting  up  rubbing  his  neck,  while  the  other  was  still 
upon  the  floor,  but  they  soon  managed  to  bring  him  to,  and 
then  the  policemen  wished  to  know  who  had  helped  our 
hero  conquer  the  villains.  They  were  at  first  unwilling  to 
believe  the  story,  but  when  Mrs.  Milner  gave  her  solemn 
assurance  that  it  was  so,  they  had  to  believe  it.  One  of 
them  picked  up  the  knife  which  Glicker  had  carried,  and 
then  asked  Orion  if  he  would  help  take  them  up. 

"  If  there  is  any  need,  yes,"  returned  the  youth. 

"  Then  come  along.  There'll  be  no  mistake  about  their 
being  locked  up,  for  the  Judge  knows  'em  of  old." 

The  fellows  were  finally  put  in  walking  order,  and 
though  they  swore  quite  freely  and  blusteringly,  yet  they 
offered  no  resistance.  They  were  led  by  the  two  police- 
men, while  Orion  followed  close  behind,  ready  to  meet 


THE   STORY  OF  A   LIFE.  3* 

them  should  they  break  away.  When  they  reached  the 
Tombs  they  found  the  Police  Court  in  session,  and  ere  long 
Messrs.  Glicker  nd  Slumpkey  were  sent  into  the  back-yard, 
across  the  narrow  court,  into  the  lock-up,  where  doors  they 
could  not  pass  were  shut  upon  them,  one  of  the  policemen 
giving  them  the  cheering  intelligence  that  they  would  prob- 
ably be  "sent  over  to  the  Island." 

Having  thus  seen  the  villains  disposed  of,  Orion  hastened 
back  to  the  apartment  where  he  had  left  his  friends.  He 
made  his  way  through  the  dark  passage  without  much  diffi- 
culty, and  the  door  was  opened  for  him  by  Lizzie,  who  had 
heard  and  knew  his  step.  Constance  Milmer  blessed  him 
again,  while  her  husband  fairly  raised  himself  to  a  sit- 
ting posture  and  whispered  his  thanks  with  the  tears  rolling 
down  his  wan  cheeks.  His  lungs  were  so  far  gone  that  he 
could  not  speak  aloud,  and  even  to  whisper  seemed  to  give 
him  pain. 

"  Now,"  said  Orion,  sitting  down  upon  the  old  chest,  and 
motioning  Mrs.  Milmer  to  take  a  seat  on  the  chair,  "  I 
would  like  to  hear  your  story.  Will  you  tell  me  something 
of  the  causes  which  have  led  to  this  ? " 

"  The  story  is  a  simple  one,  sir,"  returned  Constance, 
with  a  deep  sigh,  "and  surely  I  have  no  objections  to  tell 
it  to  you.  We  have  been  married  nine  years  this  very 
month.  James,  my  husband,  was  born  and  brought  up  in 
the  city,  but  his  parents  both  died  when  he  was  young, 
and  he  was  put  out  by  the  man  who  took  him,  to  learn  the 
bookbinder's  trade.  When  he  was  free  he  came  to  our 
town  to  work,  and  boarded  where  I  worked.  We  loved 
each  other,  and  were  soon  married  ;  and  shortly  afterwards 
James  received  the  offer  of  good  wages  if  he  would  come 
back  to  the  city.  We  came,  and  for  five  years  we  lived 
pleasantly  and  were  happy.  At  the  end  of  that  time  he  was 
taken  sick,  and  we  were  soon  obliged  to  sell  some  of  our 
furniture,  and  move  into  a  cheaper  house.  The  man  for 
whom  my  husband  worked  helped  us  some,  but  his  own 
means  were  limited,  and  we  would  not  ask  him  for  help. 
Finally,  Mr.  Bradshaw — that  was  the  binder's  name — moved 
away,  and  shortly  afterwards  James  thought  he  was  strong 
enough  to  go  at  work.  He  found  employment  in  a  small 
bindery,  where  he  remained  almost  a  year  ;  but  he  could 
not  stand  it  longer.  He  took  a  severe  cold — the  cough 


3 2  ORION;  THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

became  settled — and  at  length  he  came  home  to  go  back 
no  more. 

"  That  was  a  year  ago  last  fall.  Winter  was  upon  us, 
and  we  had  only  twenty  dollars  laid  by.  We  knew  we  must 
find  a  cheaper  home.  I  went  out,  and  at  length  found  a 
single  room  on  Anthony  street,  not  far  above  here,  where 
we  moved  in,  selling  such  of  our  furniture  as  we  could 
spare.  There  we  lived  through  the  winter,  and  when  spring 
came  our  little  stock  of  money  was  gone.  I  worked  all  I 
could,  but  I  was  very  weak,  and  could  make  only  a  few 
pence  a  day,  nearly  all  of  which  had  to  go  for  medicine  for 
James.  For  that  room  we  had  to  pay  one  dollar  and  a  half 
a  week.  Of  course  we  could  do  that  no  longer,  and  I  found 
another  room,  nearer  to  this  place,  which  I  obtained  for  six 
shillings  a  week.  There  we  remained  through  the  summer. 
When  autumn  came  again,  and  the  weather  grew  damp  and 
cold,  and  we  had  fuel  to  buy,  I  found  we  could  keep  that 
room  no  longer.  We  had  sold  every  thing  we  could  sell, 
even  to  our  best  clothing,  for  there  were  faint  hopes  that 
James  might  get  well.  The  last  thing  I  sold  was  my  wed- 
ding dress.  Oh,  I  had  kept  that  as  a  sacred  thing  !  But 
I  had  to  sell  it ;  and  when  I  carried  it  up,  the  man  thought 
I  had  stolen  it !  " 

Here  Constance  stopped  and  put  her  hands  to  her  face. 
The  big  tears  tricked  down  through  her  thin  fingers,  and 
her  fair  bosom  heaved  with  deep  sobs.  But  she  soon  over- 
came the  emotion,  and  then  went  on  : 

"  Alas  !  even  that  poor  room  we  could  not  keep.  One 
day  a  woman  told  me  she  knew  where  there  was  a  room 
I  could  have  cheap.  She  went  out  with  me,  and  brought 
me  here.  Oh,  great  God  !  how  my  heart  sank  within 
me  as  I  stood  within  this  pest-hole  and  gazed  around. 
I  could  not  think  of  coming  here — oh,  I  could  not  !  I 
went  home,  and  ere  long  I  knew  that  we  could  pay  six 
shillings  a  week  no  longer,  especially  now  that  fuel  must  be 
purchased.  I  hunted  everywhere,  but  I  could  find  no 
other  place  for  which  I  could  pay.  They  told  me  I  might 
have  this  for  one  dollar  and  twenty-five  cents  a  month.  I 
sat  down  and  thought  of  begging  !  Aye — the  thought  was 
strong  upon  me.  I  would  have  gone  to  the  Mission,  but  I 
knew  them  not,  and  I  feared  they  would  distrust  me.  But  I 
came  here.  I  cleaned  the  place  as  best  I  could,  and  a  poor 


THE   STORY  OF  A   LIFE.  33 

rag-picker  helped  me  move  my  things.  James  cried  like 
a  child  when  he  saw  his  new  home,  and  after  laying  awake 
one  whole  night,  he  told  me  he  would  take  a  death-potion 
of  laudanum  if  I  would  procure  it.  He  would  be  a  burden 
upon  me  no  longer.  I  soon  calmed  his  emotions,  and  finally 
we  became  used  to  the  place  so  far  as  mere  locality  was 
concerned  ;  but  oh  !  the  surrounding  circumstances  are 
dreadful.  Right  over  the  little  yard  we  look  into  a  den  of 
thieves — beyond  us,  at  the  end  of  the  passage,  in  the  loft  of 
the  shed,  lives  a  miserable  drunken  horde,  while  on  the 
other  side  and  below,  and  all  about  us,  are  collected  the 
most  vile  and  abandoned  wretches  that  the  human  mind  can 
conceive  of.  And  then  there  are  dark  shadows  upon  the 
room  itself,  besides  its  filthy  surroundings.  Before  we 
came  a  murder  had  been  committed  here  ;  and  there  were 
spots  of  blood  upon  the  wall.  The  last  occupants  of  the 
place  were  an  Italian  family.  The  father  died  here  of  con- 
sumption. He  used  to  be  a  fruit-seller,  and  had  a  little 
stand  on  the  sidewalk,  just  up  in  Pearl  street. 

"  But  we  have  lived  long,  though  our  life  has  been  a  hard 
one.  I  have  searched  for  work,  and  all  I  can  find  which 
they  will  allow  me  to  bring  here,  are  these  caps." 

As  she  spoke  she  reached  out  to  where  a  dozen  common 
glazed  caps  lay  upon  the  floor.  They  were  of  the  ordinary 
black  glazed  stuff,  lined  with  cheap  cambric,  and  with  a 
thick  patent-leather  visor.  v 

"  Will  they  not  trust  you  with  better  work  ? "  asked 
Orion,  in  surprise. 

"  No,  sir.     They  fear  it  will  be  stolen." 

"  Stolen  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir.  Ah — not  us — no,  no.  They  do  not  fear  us. 
But  they  know  the  people  by  whom  we  are  surrounded,  and 
they  know  that  clothing  would  be  stolen  from  us." 

"  And  how  much  do  you  get  apiece  for  making  these  ? " 

"  One  penny,  sir." 

"  One  penny  ?  "  repeated  the  youth,  incredulously.  "You 
do  not  mean  that  you  make  these — make  the  whole  of  them 
— for  one  penny  each  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir—that  is  all."  * 

*  A  simple  fact.  There  are  honest  women  in  this  city  who  labor  for  a 
pittance  so  miserable,  that  the  result  of  an  evening's  work  would  not  pay 
Jor  the  oil  burned  to  do  it  by  / 


34  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

"  Just  Heavens  !  "  exclaimed  the  visitor,  as  he  clutched 
the  cap  in  his  hand  as  though  he  had  the  head  of  the  owner 
within  it,  while  his  face  burned  with  indignation,  "  the  man 
who  will  do  that — who  will  see  a  woman  toiling  for  such 
paltry  remuneration  at  his  hands — should  be  hung — aye — 
hung  !  Mice  and  moonshine,  what  a  scamp  !  " 

"  It  is  hard,  sir,  but  I  can  do  no  better/' 

"  But  how  many  of  them  can  you  make  in  a  day  ? " 

"  Sometimes,  when  James  does  not  require  too  much  of 
my  time,  I  can  make  five.  One  day,  and  one  only,  I  made 
six." 

"  And  for  whom  do  make  them  ?  " 

She  told  him.     It  was  for  a  man  in  Chatham  Street. 

"  And,"  said  she,  "  he  can  find  plenty  who  would  be  glad 
to  make  them  for  that." 

"  Perhaps  he  can,"  return  Orion,  doubtingly.  "  So  can 
a  monarch  find  plenty  of  men  and  women  who  would  eat 
off  their  fingers  at  his  bidding  rather  than  be  put  to  death. 
But  cheer  up.  We  will  see  what  can  be  done  for  you. 
Here  is  some  clothing,  and  some  food  ;  and  I  will  leave 
you  a  little  money  now,  and  then  call  and  see  you  again." 

The  poor  woman  had  seen  too  much  of  misery  to  refuse 
such  help  now,  and  she  blessed  their  noble,  generous  friend, 
with  tears  gushing  from  her  eyes  like  rain. 

"  Here,"  said  Orion,  "are  five  dollars  which  my  employer, 
Mr.  Garvey,  gave  me  for  you.  You  must  use  it  as  you  think 
best,  and  in  the  mean  time  I  will  see  what  may  be  done  for 
you.  Don't  be  afraid  of  the  money,  for  you  shall  have 
more  when  that  is  gone.  My  fellow-workmen  will  take 
pleasure  in  assisting  me.  If  anything  should  occur  that 
renders  assistance  necessary  send  Lizzie  right  up.  She  will 
know  where  to  find  me." 

Constance  Milner  was  too  full  to  speak  ;  she  could  only 
bow  her  head  and  weep.  Orion  took  the  sick  man  by  the 
hand — spoke  a  word  of  cheer, — then  took  little  Lizzie  in  his 
arms  and  kissed  her  ;  and  then,  having  bade  the  poor  wife 
and  mother  to  hope  on,  he  turned  from  the  place,  with  a 
deep,  fervent  prayer  gushing  out  from  his  soul. 


JASPER    THORNTON.— A    SUSPICION.  35 

CHAPTER   V. 

JASPER    THORNTON. — A    SUSPICION. 

BEFORE  taking  a  stage  for  home  Orion  went  to  the  shop, 
feeling  that  Mr.  Garvey  had  a  right  to  know  how  he 
had  found  the  people  whom  he  had  been  to  visit.  The  men 
had  all  learned  from  their  employer  the  circumstances  of 
their  foreman's  adventure,  and  when  they  saw  him  about 
to  report  to  the  owner,  they  left  their  work  and  gathered 
about  him.  He  told  them  all  he  had  seen,  and  all  he  had 
done,  and  in  doing  so  he  could  not  well  avoid  an  account 
of  the  encounter  with  the  two  villains  whom  he  had  met  on 
the  night  before. 

"  By  the—" 

"  Hold  on,"  interrupted  Orion,  seeing  by  the  speaker's 
expression  that  he  was  going  to  give  utterance  to  a  wild 
oath,  "  remember  and  don't  swear.  If  you  want  an  exple- 
tive just  take  mine.  Say  '  Mice  and  moonshine.'  ' 

The  man  laughed,  and  when  he  had  got  over  his  merri- 
ment, he  resumed  : 

"  Well — then  by  the  ghosts  of  mice  and  and  moonshine, 
I'd  just  like  to  see  man  that  could  put  you  out  of  his  way 
if  you  didn't  choose,  that's  all." 

"Pshaw!"  returned  our  hero,  "don't  put  it  on  any 
thicker." 

Yet  his  companions  would  do  so.  They  loved  him,  and 
they  honored  him.  Though  they  loved  him  most  for  the 
noble  nature  that  was  in  him,  and  though  their  respect  was 
mostly  hinged  upon  his  virtue  and  honor,  yet  they  could 
not  but  fell  a  peculiar  love  and  respect  in  addition  to  all 
this,  for  the  strange  prowess  that  nature  had  bestowed 
upon  him.  Well  did  they  know  that  he  never  left  a  friend 
in  the  lurch,  and  that  the  man  who  had  him  for  a  compan- 
ion need  fear  no  harm  from  any  ordinary  cause.  Those 
men  who  now  surrounded  him  knew  him  well,  and  they  not 
only  loved  him,  but  at  times  they  almost  worshiped  him. 
He  saw  that  they  were  bound  to  turn  all  their  thoughts 
upon  what  he  had  done,  and  he  meant  to  change  the  cur- 
rent of  their  feelings.  So  he  said,  with  much  real  emo- 
tion : 


36  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

"  Listen,  boys  :  I  have  seen  such  things  to-day  as  I  nevef 
dreamed  of  before.  Had  a  stranger  told  me  what  I  have 
see — had  he  pictured  the  scenes  that  my  own  eyes  have 
this  day  rested  upon,  I  should  not  have  believed  him  I 
could  not  have  believed  that  human  beings  in  this  Christian 
city  live  as  I  have  seen  them  living.  I  told  Constance  Mil- 
mer  that  my  fellow-workmen  would  help  her  when  they 
knew  her  sufferings." 

"  We  will — that  we  will,"  cried  half  a  dozen  voices. 

"  By—" 

"  Mice  and  moonshine,"  interposed  Orion. 

"  — Mice  and  moonshine  !  but  we  will,  though  !  "  re- 
sumed Fred  Willet,  a  free-hearted  beater,  who  was  some 
few  years  older  than  Orion.  "  And  I'd  like  to  see  her  too." 

"  You  shall.  When  I  go  again  you  shall  some  of  you 
go  with  me,  for  they  will  feel  happier  to  know  that  they 
have  friends  who  care  for  them." 

"  But  why  have  they  not  applied  to  the  Mission  there  ? '' 
asked  Mr.  Garvey. 

"  Because  they  were  afraid  to.  Had  they  just  let  either 
of  the  missionaries  know  their  wants,  they  would  have  been 
helped  at  once  ;  but  Mrs.  Milmer  feared  it  would  be  looked 
upon  as  begging,  and  she  shrank  from  it.  But  we  will  take 
care  of  them  now,  and  leave  the  charity  of  the  Mission  for 
those  who  have  no  other  friends." 

The  men  were  much  pleased  with  the  prospect  of  doing 
some  good  under  the  lead  of  their  generous  foreman,  and 
after  they  had  heard  the  story  all  through  they  returned  to 
their  work,  while  Orion  went  out  upon  Broadway  and  took 
a  stage  for  up-town.  When  he  reached  home  it  was  two 
o'clock,  and  while  he  was  eating  his  dinner  he  gave  his 
mother  an  account  of  his  adventures,  simply  stating,  with 
regard  to  the  two  villains,  that  he  got  a  couple  of  police- 
men and  had  them  taken. 

"  But  what  can  such  a  man  as  that  Duffy  Glicker,  as 
you  call  him,  have  to  do  with  Constance  Milmer  ? "  asked 
the  mother. 

"  I  have  thought  a  great  deal  upon  that  very  topic,"  re- 
turned Orion,  "  and  my  mind  has  run  into  some  very 
curious  channels.  This  villain  has  a  paper  which  he  swears 
is  of  great  consequence  to  her,  and  he  wants  some  conces- 
sions from  her.  She  dared  not  tell  me  what  his  proposition 


JASPER    THORNTON.— A    SUSPICION.  37 

was,  though  I  am  sure  I  know  what  it  must  have  been.  I 
think  she  did  not  speak  it,  because  she  would  not  have  her 
husband  hear  it." 

"  And  what  do  you  think  it  is?"  asked  Mrs.  Lindell. 

"  Why,"  answered  Orion,  with  a  cold  shudder,  u  he  has 
surely  proposed  to  the  poor  woman  that  she  shall  become 
his  wife !  He  sees  that  James  Milmer  cannot  live  long, 
and  he  wishes  to  secure  her  hand  against  she  becomes  a 
widow.  That  is  it,  I  am  sure." 

"  And  why  should  he  do  such  a  thing  ? " 

"  There  is  where  my  thoughts  have  started  on  such 
strange  tracks.  Surely  he  would  not  wish  to  secure  her 
hand  if  there  was  not  something  to  be  gained  from  it.  I 
know  the  fellow  well  enough  to  know  that  nothing  on  this 
wide  earth  would  move  him  thus  but  the  hope  of  gain.  He 
has  a  paper  which  he  has  thus  far  kept  sealed  up  from  her. 
I  have  thought  it  might  contain  some  secret  of  her  life,  or 
of  the  life  of  some  one  who  is  connected  with  her.  Now, 
you  remember  the  emotions  of  the  lady —  No,  you  were 
not  here.  But  Mrs.  Tiverton,  the  wealthy  wife  of  a  wealthy 
merchant,  was  very  strangely  affected  by  the  appearance  of 
little  Lizzie.  First  she  sat  and  gazed  upon  the  child  a  long 
while  ;  and  then  she  called  her  to  her  side,  and  again  she 
behaved  very  curiously.  It  was  not  until  she  found  that 
the  little  one  was  was  from  the  Five  Points  that  she  cast 
her  off." 

"  Well,"  uttered  his  mother,  as  her  son  hesitated. 

*'  Well,"  resumed  Orion,  "  why  may  we  not  put  this  and 
that  together  ?  Mrs.  Tiverton  evidently  found  something 
familiar  in  the  face  of  Lizzie  Milmer.  You  know  how 
strangely  these  family  likenesses  run  sometimes." 

"  Yes.  But  was  there  any  similarity  between  this  lady  of 
whom  you  speak,  and  the  child  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Lindell. 

Orion  had  not  thought  of  this  before.  Amid  the  many 
strange  thoughts  which  had  burdened  his  mind,  this  one — 
the  most  simple,  and  most  direct  and  legitimate  of  all,  had 
entirely  escaped  him.  He  was  at  first  inclined  to  say  that 
he  did  not  know,  but  in  a  moment  more  a  new  light  beamed 
upon  his  face.  He  started  up  from  his  chair,  and  clasped 
his  hands  quickly  together. 

"  I  declare,  mother,  I  did  not  think  of  this  before.  But 
they  are  alike.  Aye — they  most  surely  arc.  Lizzie  Milmer 


38  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEA  TER. 

is  almost  the  exact  image  of  Mrs.  Julia  Tiverton  ;  aye — the 
exact  likeness  !  The  same  black  hair  ;  the  same  large  black 
eyes  ;  the  same  pale,  moderate  brow,  the  same  finely  chis- 
eled, thin,  aquiline  nose  ;  the  same  small  mouth,  and  the 
same  curling  lips.  Only  the  child  has  an  expression  of  soul 
which  the  woman  does  not  possess." 

"  So  near  ?  "  said  his  mother. 

"  Aye — so  near.     Is  it  not  strange  ?  " 

"  It  is,  truly.  But  how  is  it  with  Lizzie's  mother  ?  Has 
she  the  same  look  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,"  returned  the  youth.  "Constance  Milmer 
has  light,  sunny  hair  ;  deep  blue  eyes,  and  in  no  respect 
does  she  look  like  either  of  them." 

"  It  is  very  strange,"  murmured  Mrs.  Lindell  thought- 
fully. 

"  Surely  it  is,"  added  Orion  ;  "  and  when  I  see  her 
again  I  will  broach  the  subject.  I  can  do  so  easily.  I  will 
not  only  give  her  some  hints  about  this  paper,  but  I  will 
also  take  the  liberty  of  mentioning  the  remarkable  likeness 
between  her  child  and  Mrs.  Tiverton.  I  shall  do  it  mod- 
estly, and  without  startling  her.  Upon  my  soul,  I  feel  a 
great  curiosity  to  understand  this  matter,  for  it  puzzles  me. 
It  puzzles  me  strangely." 

A  while  longer  they  conversed  upon  this  subject,  and  then 
the  youth  wished  to  be  informed  more  particularly  concern- 
ing the  state  of  their  patient. 

"  She  is  in  considerable  pain,"  said  his  mother,  but  she 
bears  it  nobly.  She  regained  her  senses  about  ten  o'clock, 
but  seemed  too  much  confused  to  talk  clearly  ;  and  I 
should  not  have  conversed  with  her  had  she  even  wished 
to,  for  she  was  not  able.  The  doctor  came  and  put  better 
splints  upon  her  arm,  and  left  such  medicine  as  he  wished 
her  to  take." 

"  Then  she  has  not  spoken  at  all  ? " 

"  Yes — she  wished  to  know  one  thing — ah — two  things  : 
First,  she  asked  who  had  saved  her  from  death ;  and  next, 
if  her  uncle  had  been  here." 

"  Uncle?"  repeated  Orion. 

"  Yes  ;  she  called  Paul  Tiverton  her  uncle  ;  but  she  said 
nothing  about  his  wife." 

"Ah — I  guess  Mrs.  Tiverton  hasn't  much  love  for  any- 
body," said  Orion,  with  a  dubious  shake  of  the  head. 


JASPER    THORNTON.— A   SUSPICION.  39 

"  Perhaps  not/'  returned  the  mother. 

At  this  moment  there  came  the  low  tinkling  of  a  bell 
from  the  invalid's  chamber,  and  Mrs.  Lindell  hastened  up. 
The  youth  had  not  been  long  alone  when  he  saw  a  young 
man  coming  up  the  walk  through  the  front  garden.  The 
door-bell  had  been  muffled,  so  Orion  went  to  the  door  as 
soon  as  he  saw  the  new-comer  at  hand. 

"  Is  Miss  Ellen  Durand  here  ?"  the  caller  asked. 

u  There  is  a  young  lady  here,  sir,  who  was  hurt  this 
morning  by  being  thrown  from  a  coach  and  dragged  off  by 
the  horses." 

While  Orion  gave  this  answer  he  eyed  the  man  very 
sharply.  He  had  seen  those  features  before,  and  there 
was  something  peculiar  in  the  circumstances  which  brought 
them  to  his  mind.  The  applicant  was  a  young  man,  not 
over  five-and-twenty  ;  tall  and  quite  stout — being  consider- 
ably heavier  than  Orion  ;  with  rather  hard  features,  but  yet 
possessing  a  certain  kind  of  dashing,  free-and-easy  mascu- 
line beauty.  His  complexion  was  sandy,  and  his  hair  and 
beard  were  evidently  of  the  same  hue  before  the  barber 
colored  them  ;  for  that  they  were  dyed  the  most  casual 
observer  could  have  sworn.  Take  him  all  in  all,  he  had  a 
pretty  extensive  sporting  look,  though  an  air  of  gentility 
was  present  to  soften  down  the  mere  outward  appearance. 

"  I  should  like  to  see  her,"  the  visitor  said. 

"  That  would  be  impossible,"  returned  our  hero,  still 
trying  to  remember  where  he  had  seen  the  man.  "  She  is 
not  able  to  see  any  one  save  the  physician,  and  her 
nurse." 

4  And  who  is  her  physician  ?  " 

1  Dr.  Walter  Stanley." 

'  And  her  nurse  ?  " 

'  My  mother,  sir." 

'  Ah — yes.     Will  you  see  her  soon  ?  " 

This  question  was  net  only  asked  in  a  very  peculiar  tone 
and  with  strong  emphasis,  but  the  speaker  looked  the 
youth's  face  with  a  sharp,  dubious  expression. 

"  Of  course  I  shall  not, — at  all  events,  not  until  she  is 
better  than  she  is  now,"  Orion  answered. 

"  Let's  see  !  I  suppose  you  are  the  man  who  saved  her, 
are  you  not  ? " 

This,  too,  was  asked  with  that  same  look  and  tone  ;  and 


40  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

Orion's  eyes  began  to  open  to  the  truth.  As  he  answered 
the  last  question  in  the  affirmative  he  gazed  into  the  man's 
face  with  a  look  almost  of  indignation,  for  he  could  see  by 
his  look,  his  tone,  and  the  character  of  his  questions,  that 
he  was  the  lady's  lover,  and  that  he  was  a  little  inclined  to 
jealousy. 

After  this  the  visitor  wished  to  know  how  badly  the  girl 
was  hurt,  and  so  on,  all  of  which  Orion  answered  to  the 
best  of  his  ability  ;  and  several  times  he  put  questions 
which  palpably,  nakedly  aimed  at  the  discovery  of  the  fact 
whether  our  hero  would  be  likely  to  see  and  converse  with 
the  ill-fated  girl  while  she  remained  there ;  but  he  got  no 
definite  answer  to  these. 

"  Shall  my  mother  tell  Miss  Durand  who  called  ?  "  asked 
Orion,  as  the  fellow  was  about  to  turn  away. 

He  hesitated  a  few  moments,  and  finally  took  a  small 
case  from  his  pocket,  from  which  he  drew  a  card  ;  and  as 
he  handed  it  to  Orion,  he  remarked  : 

"  You  may  send  that  to  her  ;  and  also  have  your  mother 
inform  her  that  I  will  call  again  when  I  think  she  is  able  to 
see  me." 

Orion  promised,  and  the  visitor  went  away.  As  soon  as 
he  was  gone,  our  hero  looked  at  the  card.  It  bore — 
"  JASPER  THORTON,  M.D."  In  an  instant  the  youth 
remembered  all  he  sought.  Now  he  knew  who  his  cus- 
tomer was.  Some  two  or  three  months  before  one  of  Orion's 
fellow-workmen,  who  had  been  in  the  city  only  a  short  time, 
and  who  was  anxious  to  see  the  whole  elephant,  had  been 
robbed  of  five  hundred  dollars  in  a  gambling  saloon  on 
Broadway.  He  had  gone  in,  and  allowed  himself  to  be  in- 
duced to  try  a  few  stakes  upon  a  faro  bank.  He  knew  that 
he  had  been  plied  with  drugged  liquor,  and  he  knew  that 
he  had  been  directly  robbed  of  his  money.  On  the  next 
day  Mr.  Garvey  and  Orion  went  with  him  to  the  saloon, 
and  after  a  while  Jasper  Thornton  came  in,  and  the  poor 
loser  pointed  him  out  as  the  man  who  had  fleeced  him  ; 
but  they  never  got  any  of  the  money  back.  Henry  Tweed 
— such  was  the  young  gold-beater's  name — had  no  desire 
to  prosecute,  for  he  could  not  bear  to  come  out  publicly  and 
own  that  he  had  been  gambling.  Yet  he  was  not  in  the  end 
so  much  of  a  loser,  for  the  affair  put  him  on  his  guard,  and 
$aved  him  from  perhaps  a  worse  fate,  Mr,  Garvey  made 


JASPER    TffORNTON.—A    SUSPICION.  4* 

inquiries  of  the  keeper  of  the  saloon  concerning  Thornton's 
character.  At  first  the  man  refused  to  tell  any  thing  about 
him,  but  Mr.  Garvey  assured  him  that  he  meant  to  make  no 
further  use  of  the  knowledge,  and  the  keeper  finally  told 
him  all  he  asked.  The  gold-beater  had  known  the  keeper 
for  some  time,  having  been  in  the  habit  of  buying  much  of 
his  finest  gold  coin.  Thus  Garvey  learned  that  Thornton 
was  an  orphan,  having  been  left,  at  the  age  of  one-and- 
twenty,  with  a  fortune  of  over  a  hundred  thousand  dollars. 
He  had  passed  through  college,  and  also  graduated  at  the 
medical  school,  and  had  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of 
Medicine,  and  been  admitted  to  practice.  Within  three 
years  from  the  day  of  his  majority  he  had  squandered  every 
penny  of  his  noble  fortune,  and  was  then  living  more  by 
gambling  than  by  his  profession.  In  fact,  he  had  very  few 
patients,  and  even  those  were  among  the  lowest  class.  Yet 
few  people  among  his  fashionable  friends,  if  any,  knew  of 
his  fall.  Most  of  them  supposed  him  still  wealthy.  . 

All  this  came  to  Orion's  mind  as  he  sat  there  with  the 
card  in  his  hand  ;  and  it  was  no  very  difficult  matter  for 
him  to  judge  of  Mr.  Thornton's  connection  with  Ellen 
Durand.  In  all  probability  the  girl  was  wealthy,  and  he 
meant  to  win  her  and  her  gold.  The  very  jealousy,  or  un- 
easiness, he  had  manifested  proved  that  fre  had  little  faith 
in  his  own  deserts.  He  surely  feared  that  his  lady-love 
would  be  easily  won  from  him,  by  a  noble,  generous  man. 

There  was  some  curious  emotions  in  the  youth's  soul  as 
he  pondered  upon  this  subject.  He  had  seen  enough  of 
the  girl  to  know  that  she  was  very  beautiful,  and  his 
sympathies  were  all  enlisted  in  her  behalf.  He  experienced 
a  pleasing  emotion  with  the  thought  that  he  had  saved  her 
life,  and  he  began  to  wonder  if  he  should  enjoy  the 
privilege  of  conversing  with  her.  He  knew  nothing  of  her 
— nothing  at  all — and  yet  the  thought  gave  him  pain. 

But  he  was  cut  short  in  his  reverie  by  the  stopping  of  a 
coach  at  the  gate,  and  in  a  few  moments  more  he  saw  Paul 
Tiverton  coming  up  the  walk.  The  gentleman  limped 
some  yet,  but  he  had  evidently  received  but  little  injury. 


42  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEA  TER. 

CHAPTER    VI. 

A    MYSTERY. 

ORION  felt  a  deep  respect  for  Mr.  Tiverton,  for  there 
was  something  about  his  look,  and  tone,  and  bearing, 
which,  though  proud,  was  yet  true  and  noble.  He 
bore  the  proof  of  honor  in  every  lineament,  and  was  far 
from  being  haughty  or  over-bearing.  He  was  surely  a  man 
who  ought  to  enjoy  life,  and  yet  there  were  shades  upon 
his  countenance  that  were  never  put  there  by  joy  or  peace. 
At  times,  when  all  alone  in  his  counting-house,  or  when 
by  himself  in  his  own  dwelling,  deep,  dark  clouds  would 
come  upon  his  brow,  and  for  an  hour  at  a  time  he 
would  often  remain  bowed  down  in  some  moody  thought. 
He  was  not  a  happy  man  ;  and  yet  no  youth  ever  saw 
the  sun  of  his  manhood  arise  more  brightly,  or  with 
better  promise  of  a  glorious  day.  But  Paul  Tiverton 
had  seen  dark  days  since  then.  He  possessed  a  great  heart 
— a  noble,  generous  one — one  that  yearned  for  love  and 
sympathy,  and  a  soul  that  asked  for  joy  in  the  companion- 
ship of  other  souls  as  pure  and  free  as  itself.  In  the  tur- 
moil of  business  a  man  may  find  food  for  his  laboring 
mind,  but  he  looks  not  there  for  social  joys.  If  his  home 
cannot  afford  him  the  pleasures  he  seeks,  then  where  shall 
he  find  them  ? 

Alas  !  Paul  Tiverton  found  little  joy  in  his  home.  Or, 
rather,  he  found  but  very  little  unalloyed.  We  have  already 
seen  a  slight  specimen  of  the  character  of  his  wife.  She 
was  not  the  woman  for  him.  She  had  no  sympathy  for  his 
better  feelings,  and  as  for  those  aspirations  which  lead  the 
mind  to  purer,  nobler  thoughts,  she  knew  nothing  of  them. 
She  spent  her  time  and  attention  only  upon  dress,  and  food, 
and  drink,  and  visitors  and  visiting.  Late  hours  were  her 
property  always,  and  the  daytime  she  gave  to  sleep. 

As  the  merchant  entered  the  house  he  grasped  Orion 
warmly  by  the  hand,  and  having  taken  a  seat,  he  asked  after 
Ellen  Durand.  The  youth  noticed  that  he  asked  the  ques- 
tion anxiously,  as  though  he  had  great  love  for  the  injured 
one.  Orion  answered  that  she  had  recovered  her  senses, 
and  that  soon  as  his  mother  came  out  he  could  probably 
go  in. 


A   MYSTERY,  43 

"  It  seems  that  she  is  not  your  child,"  said  Orion,  at  the 
end  of  a  few  moments'  silence. 

"  No,"  returned  Tiverton.  "  She  is  no  blood  relative  .of 
mine  at  all  ;  but  yet  I  hold  her  within  my  very  heart.  She 
is  a  noble  girl — a  generous,  pure,  and  faithful  being.  She 
is  an  orphan.  Her  father  died  when  she  was  fifteen,  and 
left  her  in  my  care.  Her  mother  died  when  she  was  a  mere 
child." 

"  And  how  old  is  she  now  ? "  Orion  asked. 

"  Nineteen." 

"  Then,  of  course,  if  she  has  been  kind  and  loving,  she 
must  be  like  a  child  to  you.  A  pure  and  virtuous  heart  is  a 
precious  possession,  sir." 

The  merchant  gazed  hard  into  the  youth's  features,  and 
a  moisture  gathered  in  his  eyes  as  he  replied  : 

"  Aye— you  speak  truly,  sir.  A  pure  and  virtuous  heart, 
alive  with  generous  affection,  is  indeed  a  heavenly  boon." 

Orion  still  held  Thornton's  card  in  his  hand,  and  as  his 
eye  rested  upon  it  he  fairly  started  with  the  thought  which 
came  to  his  mind.  Here  was  a  noble  girl — a  generous,  con- 
fiding orphan,  and  perhaps  a  villain  was  deceiving  her,  and 
about  to  drag  her  down  to  misery.  And  furthermore,  here 
was  the  man  in  whose  care  the  girl  had  been  trusted,  and 
who  loved  her  well.  Was  it  not  his  duty  to  say  something  ? 

He  had  become  aware  of  the  doctor's  character,  and  he  felt 
it  was  no  secret.  He  pondered  upon  it  awhile,  and  at  length 
he  determined  to  speak — carefully  at  first — and  then  pro- 
gress as  his  own  judgment  might  dictate.  He  handed  the 
card  to  Mr.  Tiverton,  saying  as  he  did  so  : 

"  Perhaps  you  know  that  individual,  sir." 

The  merchant  took  the  card,  and  as  his  eye  fell  upon  the 
name  a  cloud  flitted  across  his  face. 
'      '  Yes — I  know  him,  sir.     He  has  been  here,  has  he  ?  " 

*  Yes — he  called  a  short  time  before  you  came." 

'  And  did  he  see  Ellen?" 

'  No,  sir.     I  told  him  he  could  not  see  her  at  present." 

1  Right — right,"  uttered  Tiverton  with  considerable  satis- 
faction. 

Orion  hesitated  a  while,  and  then  he  proceeded  : 

"  Pardon  me,  sir,  but  I  would  like  to  know  if  Mr,  Thorn- 
ton  is  waiting  upon  Miss  Durand." 

«<  Why — yes — I  suppose  so." 


44  ORTOtf,   THE  GOLD  BEA  TER. 

"  And  do  you  know  anything  of  his  character  ? " 

"  Ha  !  Do  you  ? "  utter  the  merchant,  starting  quickly 
up  as  he  heard  the  question. 

"  I  know  something,  sir,"  returned  our  hero,  in  a  low, 
careful  tone. 

"  Then  tell  me,  I  pray  you."  said  the  other,  earnestly. 
"  I  know  that  his  parents  were  among  the  first  people  of 
the  city,  and  that  they  left  him  a  fortune — an  independent 
fortune,  and  more  too — vastly  more.  And  I  know  that  he 
is  a  graduate,  and  moves  in  our  best  circles  ;  but  after  all 
I  am  not  easy  in  view  of  his  attentions  to  my  ward.  She 
has  not  pledged  him  her  hand  yet,  though  he  feels  certain 
she  will.  I  am  sure  she  has  hesitated  because  she  had  not 
the  fullest  confidence  in  his  honesty  and  truth.  If  you 
know  anything  concerning  his  character  or  habits  I  pray 
you  let  me  be  made  acquainted  with  them.  Do  not  hesi- 
tate, sir,  for  I  assure  you  I  would  rather  die  now,  in  the 
very  prime  of  my  physical  manhood,  than  live  to  see  that 
sweet  child  come  to  misery  and  tears  though  the  wicked- 
ness of  another." 

"  Mr.  Tiverton,"  returned  the  youth  candidly,  "  it  was 
this  faith  in  Miss  Durand's  virtue  and  goodness  that  caused 
me  to  show  you  the  card." 

"  And  how  gained  you  such  faith  ? "  asked  the  merchant, 
curiously. 

"  First,  from  the  slight  glimpse  I  had  of  her  kind  face  ; 
and,  second,  from  the  mild,  noble  resignation  with  which, 
according  to  my  mother's  account,  she  bears  her  misfor- 
tune. If  I  wanted  another  cause  I  might  find  it  in  your 
solicitude  for  her." 

"  You  are  observant,  and  you  surely  observe  to  some 
purpose,"  said  the  merchant,  with  a  grateful  smile  ;  and 
then  he  added,  "  Now  tell  me  of  Jasper  Thornton." 

"  Then  listen,  sir  ;  and  as  I  tell  it  I  would  beg  of  you  to 
remember  that  it  affords  me  no  gratification  thus  to  be  able 
to  speak  ill  of  a  fellow-being  ;  that  in  revealing  this  man's 
character  I  am  governed  solely  by  the  desire  to  save  a 
worthy  soul  from  contamination  by  an  unworthy." 

Mr.  Tiverton  signified  that  he  appreciated  the  youth's 
feelings,  and  the  latter  proceeded  : 

"  I  shall  tell  you  just  as  it  happened,  and  then  you  can 
judge  for  yourself."  Thereupon  he  went  on  and  related 


A    MYSTERY.  45 

how  Thornton  had  enticed  young  Henry  Tweed  into  play ; 
how  he  had  given  him  drugged  liquor,  and  taken  all  his 
money  from  him.  And  then  he  related  the  story  told  by 
the  keeper  of  the  gaming-house.  "  This  keeper,"  the  youth 
said,  u  is  a  truthful  man,  and  he  utterly  refused  to  reveal 
Thornton's  circumstances  and  habits  until  he  was  assured 
Mr,  Garvey  would  make  no  legal  use  of  the  information. 
Yes,  sir — Jasper  Thornton  has  squandered  the  whole  of  his 
fortune,  and  is  now  dependent  upon  his  skill  as  a  gamester 
for  his  livelihood." 

"  But  he  practices  his  profession,  some  ?" 

"  Only  among  that  class  of  poor  lost  creatures  who  are 
not  yet  sunk  low  enough  to  go  to  the  dispensary." 

"  Just  Heavens  !  "  ejaculated  the  merchant,  with  his 
hands  clasped,  and  his  eyes  turned  upward.  "  Oh,  kind 
sir,  I  thank  you  for  this."  I  thank  you  most  freely  and 
warmly.  The  villain  might  have  become  my  darling's  hus- 
band. Aye — he  might  have  done  so  but  for  this.  He  has 
represented  that  his  money  was  all  on  deposit,  and  that  he 
had  not  touched  it  yet — that  he  had  been  living  on  the  pro- 
ceeds of  his  practice.  Oh,  my  loved  ward  is  saved  !  But 
yet  I  should  like  some  ocular  proof  of  this.  I  should  like 
to  see  him  with  my  own  eyes." 

"  Orion  pondered  a  few  moments,  and  then  he  said  : 

"  You  shall  have  it.  Go  with  me  any  night  and  I  think  I 
can  show  him  to  you,  especially  now  that  the  lady  is  so  that 
he  can  not  visit  her." 

"  But  I  should  not  like  to  have  him  know  of  my  pres- 
ence." 

"  That  is  easily  fixed.  There  are  in  Chatham  street  sev- 
eral places  where  we  can  procure  disguises ;  so  we  can 
visit  the  gaming  saloons  without  the  least  danger  of 
detection." 

"  And  you  will  go  with  me  to  the  place  ? " 

"  Certainly  I  will,  on  any  evening." 

"  Then  be  assured  I  shall  hold  you  to  your  promise." 

At  this  juncture  the  door  was  opened,  and  Mrs.  Lindell 
made  her  appearance.  Orion  at  once  arose,  and  introduced 
the  visitor  to  his  mother.  The  former  arose,  and  having 
advanced  and  given  his  hand  to  Mrs.  Lindell,  he  said  : 

"  I  am  happy  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  the  mother  of 
so  noble  a  son  j  and  be  assured  that  I  am  proud  to  claim 


46  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEA  TER. 

the  friendship  of  one  who  bases  her  claims  to  love  upon  her 
noble  charity  and  benevolence." 

Catharine  Lindell  gazed  fixedly  into  the  man's  face,  and 
there  was  a  perceptible  tremor  in  her  frame. 

"You  are  welcome,"  she  said,  in  her  sweet,  gentle  tones  : 
"and  I  may  say  that  I  am  happy  to  make  the  acquaintance 
of  one  in  your  position  who  is  willing  to  recognize  the  claims 
of  truth  and  honor.  I  may  give  you  a  mother's  assurance 
that  in  whatever  you  may  trust  my  son  you  shall  find  in  him 
all  that  this  same  truth  and  honor  can  make  him." 

"  There,"  said  Orion,  with  a  blush  and  smile  upon  his 
handsome  face,  "  please  say  no  more  about  me." 

"  You  should  not  listen,"  quickly  responded  Tiverton, 
playfully.  And  then  turning  to  the  mother  he  added  : 

"  Can  I  see  my  ward,  good  lady  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.  She  has  been  very  anxious  to  see  you.  In 
fact,  I  should  have  been  tempted  to  send  for  you  had  you 
not  come,  for  the  poor  girl  seemed  so  anxious  that  I  feared 
it  would  be  dangerous  for  her  to  go  without  seeing  you, — or 
hearing  from  you,  at  any  rate." 

"  Noble  girl  !  "  ejaculated  the  merchant  fervently.  "  But 
lead  the  way  at  once." 

Mrs.  Lindell  turned  towards  the  door  by  which  she  had 
entered,  and  bade  the  gentleman  follow  her.  Mr.  Tiverton 
found  Ellen  in  a  very  comfortable  and  neatly  furnished 
apartment  on  the  second  floor,  with  every  appearance  of 
care  and  comfort  about  her.  She  made  an  instinctive  effort 
to  start  up  when  she  saw  her  guardian,  but  she  was  unable 
to  do  that,  so  she  reached  out  her  whole  arm  and  smiled. 
She  was  very  glad  to  see  him,  and  her  first  words  were  of 
gratitude  because  he  had  come. 

Mrs.  Lindell  withdrew  as  soon  as  the  gentleman  had 
found  his  ward,  and  the  two  friends  were  thus  left  alone 
together. 

"  You  must  have  been  very  lonesome,  my  little  Nelly," 
said  the  merchant,  taking  a  seat  by  the  bed. 

"  Oh,  no  ;  I  have  not  been  lonesome,  Uncle  Paul." 

She  always  called  him  thus. 

"Yet  you  wished  to  see  me." 

"  Oh — yes — I  wanted  to  see  you  very  much ;  and  you 
must  come  and  see  me  every  day.  You  will,  won't  you  ? " 

"  I  will  try  to,  my  darling." 


A   MYSTERY.  47 

"  Because/*  resumed  Ellen,  with  a  kindling  eye,  "  it 
makes  me  feel  stronger  to  have  those  I  love  care  for  me 
and  love  me,  too." 

The  merchant  kissed  the  hand  he  held,  and  then  said: 

"  You  must  feel  sorry  with  the  thought  that  you  are  thus 
throw  upon  the  care  of  strangers." 

The  maiden  reflected  a  moment,  and  then,  while  a 
peculiar  shade  passed  over  her  face,  she  answered: 

"  It  would  be  wrong  to  say  anything  which  I  did  not 
feel,  especially  when  these  people  have  been  so  good.  No 
— I  think  I  had  better  be  here  than  to  be  on  Aunt  Julia's 
hands.  You  know  she  is  not  very  strong,  and  it  might 
make  her  nervous  to  have  me  there  in  such  a  plight  as  I 
am  now.  Oh,  these  people  have  been  very  kind  !  Mrs. 
Lindell  makes  me  feel  perfectly  at  home.  She  is  free  and 
generous,  and  is  so  pleasant  and  good.  You  have  not  yet 
told  them  that  I  was  wealthy  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  And  you  won't,  will  you  ?" 

"  Of  course  not.  But  why  are  you  so  particular  on  this 
point  ? " 

"  Because  they  think  now  that  I  am  a  poor  orphan, — or 
the  good  lady  does — and  I  know  she  feels  more  happy  and 
joyous  in  taking  care  of  me  than  she  would  if  she  supposed 
I  was  the  mistress  of  half  a  million  of  dollars,  and  meant 
to  pay  them  well  when  I  recovered." 

"  They  must  be  curious  people,  then,"  said  Tiverton. 
"  But,"  he  added,  "  I  heard  the  young  man  say  something 
which  sounded  like  this  when  my  wife  was  here  with  me. 
She  said  something  about  paying  them  if  they  would  take 
good  care  of  you,  and  he  did  not  like  it  at  all." 

"Is  this  son  a  good-looking  man,  uncle?"  asked  Ellen, 
with  a  somewhat  inquisitive  expression. 

"  Why  do  you  ask  that  ? "  returned  the  merchant  with  a 
smile. 

"  Why — because  I  thought  I  would  like  to  know.  I  think 
I  never  saw  a  more  beautiful  woman,  in  the  middle  age  of 
life,  than  Mrs.  Lindell  is." 

"  She  is  a  handsome  woman,"  said  Tiverton,  thought- 
fully. 

"Aye — she  is  beautiful,"  resumed  Ellen,  with  enthusi- 
asm, "  What  sums  of  money — what  masses  of  wealth — 


4&  ORION,  THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

she  might  obtain  if  she  could  but  sell  that  beauty  for 
money.  How  many  of  our  votaries  of  fashion,  who  now 
paint  and  perfume,  would  envy  her  those  lovely  features. 
But  they  are  nothing  compared  with  the  beauty — the  love- 
liness— of  her  soul." 

"  Lindell — Lindell — "  murmured  the  merchant ;  "  what 
is  her  other  name  ?  " 

"  Catherine." 

"  Do  you  know  where  she  came  from  ?" 

"  No.  I  only  know  that  she  is  a  widow,  and  that  she 
moved  here  and  bought  this  house,  intending  to  keep  a  few 
boarders.  She  did  so  a  while,  but  finally  her  son  assumed 
a  position  where  he  could  make  good  wages,  and  she  gave 
up  her  boarders,  and  now  does  a  little  sewing." 

"  Do  you  know  what  wages  her  son  receives  ?  " 

"She  told  me  twenty  dollars  per  week." 

"  They  can  live  very  comfortably  upon  that,  seeing  that 
they  have  no  rent  to  pay  ;  but  still  we  will  find  some  way 
to  help  them  one  of  these  days." 

"  Aye — but  you  have  not  yet  answered  my  question," 
said  Ellen,  with  a  smile. 

"  Ah — yes — about  the  young  man,  you  mean  ? " 

"Yes," 

"  Did  you  not  see  him  ?  He  carried  you  far  enough  in 
his  arms,  with  your  heart  beating  against  his  own." 

The  fair  maiden  blushed — then  smiled — and  then,  with 
a  playful  pat  of  the  finger  upon  her  guardian's  face,  she 
said  : 

"  I  was  too  deeply  moved  by  the  novelty  of  my  position 
to  notice  faces  then,  sir.  In  fact,  I  did  not  feel  very  well." 

"  I  should  suppose  not.  But  I  will  satisfy  your  curiosity, 
Nelly,  as  best  I  can.  Suppose  I  were  to  tell  you  he  is  very 
ugly  ? " 

"  Then  I  should  say  that  his  goodness  of  heart  over- 
balances it." 

"  Why — what  know  you  of  his  goodness  of  heart  ? " 

"  I  know  this  much,"  answered  Ellen,  with  a  flushed  face, 
for  her  deep  gratitude  led  her  to  defend  her  noble  pre- 
server :  "  On  the  night  before  I  came  here  he  saved  a  poor, 
ragged  child  from  two  great,  stout,  brutal  men — he  brought 
her  home  here  and  cared  for  her.  Then  he  went  out,  and, 
at  the  risk  of  his  own  life,  saved  me  from  a  terrible  death. 


A   MYSTERY.  49 

He  brought  me  in,  and  having  seen  me  in  safe  hands  he 
went  away  and  carried  the  child  home,  and  made  her 
parents  happy.  And  now  he  is  ready  for  the  next  case  of 
suffering  he  may  fall  in  with.  I  know  this  much." 

« Well — I  must  say,  that  is  more  than  can  be  said  of 
most  men.  However — he  is  not  ugly-looking,  at  all  ;  but, 
on  the  contrary,  he  is  very  good-looking — very  good.  But 
you  may  see  him  ere  long,  and  then  you  can  judge  for 
yourself." 

After  some  further  conversation,  Mr.  Tiverton  kissed  his 
ward,  and  then  arose  from  his  seat.  He  had  stood  some 
moments  in  a  thoughtful  attitude,  when  he  said,  in  a  very 
careful  tone  : 

"  Perhaps  Mr.  Thornton  may  call  to  see  you." 

The  color  came  again  to  Ellen's  face;  but  she  was  not 
long  in  giving  an  answer. 

"  I  would  rather  not  see  him  while  I  am  sick." 

"  Why  so,  darling  ? " 

"  Because  I  wish  to  possess  all  my  strength  when  I  next 
meet  him.  I  am  not  fully  satisfied  with  that  man.  I  have 
seen  some  things  in  him  which  I  do  not  like.  During  his 
last  few  visits  he  has  been  very  anxious  to  find  out  how 
much  money  I  possess.  He  has  not  asked  the  question 
directly,  but  he  has  asked  if  it  was  in  your  business,  or 
whether  I  had  it  deposited  ;  and  when  I  evaded  the  ques- 
tion he  not  only  seemed  disappointed,  but  almost  provoked, 
if  not  angry.  I  could  see  by  the  way  in  which  he  went  at 
the  work  that  he  was  very  eager  to  know  if  I  were  not 
wealthy." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Tiverton,  considerably  relieved,  "  I  am 
of  your  opinion  with  regard  to  his  calling  here,  and  if  he 
comes  we  will  have  him  informed  that  you  are  not  well 
enough  to  see  him." 

The  merchant  thought  it  not  best  to  inform  her  that 
Thornton  had  already  been  there  ;  and  having  kissed  her, 
and  promised  to  call  again  on  the  morrow,  he  turned  away 
and  left  the  room.  He  saw  that  his  visit  had  enlivened  his 
ward,  but  still'he  knew  that  she  was  very  low  ;  and  he  could 
not  leave  until  he  had  cautioned  the  hostess  to  be  very 
careful  of  her. 

Half  an  hour  after  this  Orion  went  up  to  his  own  room 
on  some  errand  for  himself,  and  he  found  his  mother  there 


50  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

on  her  knees  !  Her  hands  were  clasped,  and  her  face  was 
pale  as  death.  When  she  saw  her  son  she  started  up,  and 
would  have  fled  from  the  room  had  not  the  youth  stopped 
her. 

"  In  mercy's  name,"  he  gasped,  "  what  has  happened  ? 
Tell  me,  my  mother — oh,  tell  me." 

Mrs.  Lindell  started  back  and  placed  her  hands  upon 
her  brow ;  and  in  this  position  sank  down  upon  a  chair. 
She  remained  so  for  some  moments — for  a  whole  minute. 
At  first  her  frame  shook  violently,  but  she  gradually  over- 
came the  wildness  of  the  emotion,  and  when  she  had  wholly 
ceased  trembling  she  arose  to  her  feet.  Her  face  was  still 
very  pale,  and  about  the  nether  lip  there  were  left  traces  of 
the  old  tremulousness.  She  spoke,  and  her  voice  was  low 
and  startling. 

"  Orion/'  she  said,  gazing  fixedly  into  his  face,  "  I  am 
sorry  you  found  me  thus,  for  I  should  have  entirely  over- 
come it,  with  a  short  season  of  prayer.  But  you  have  seen 
me  moved  as  you  never  saw  me  moved  before,  and  as  I 
trust  you  never  will  again.  At  some  time  I  may  tell  you 
all  you  could  wish  to  know  ;  but  if  you  love  me,  ask  me 
no  questions.  Let  this  scene  be  forgotten." 

"  Forgotten  ? "  exclaimed  the  youth,  vacantly.  And  then, 
with  more  concentration  of  his  faculties,  he  added,  "  How 
can  I  ever  forget  it  ? — How  can  I  ? " 

"  Then  let  it  pass  as  you  would  the  thunderbolt  which 
had  startled  you.  Oh,  ask  me  no  question  !  If  you  would 
prove  your  love — if  you  would  give  your  poor  mother  the 
holiest  boon  she  can  ask — then  question  me  not  of  what 
you  have  seen.  Orion — my  son — the  moment  is  passed, 
never  to  return.  Let  it  go.  Let  it  be  as  in  oblivion,  and 
I  shall  bless  you  !  " 

With  these  words  Mrs.  Lindell  turned  and  hurried  from 
the  apartment.  She  stopped  not  to  hear  a  word — only  at 
the  door  she  half  turned  her  head,  and  with  an  imploring, 
prayerful  look  she  whispered  : 

"  Remember  !    Oh,  love  me,  and  God  shall  bless  you  !  " 


DARO  KID.— THE  MERCHANT  AT  HOME.  51 

CHAPTER  VII. 

DARO  KID. THE  MERCHANT  AT  HOME. 

IT  was  early  morning — the  sun  had  just  risen  clear  and 
bright — and  the  busy  life  of  the  great  city  was  all  astir  ;  at 

least,  where  men  had  to  labor  with  their  hands  to  support 
themselves  and  families.  The  carts  were  rattling  over  the 
pavements — the  milkmen  were  shrieking  out  their  unearthly 
yells  to  arouse  the  lazy  servant-girls — the  pie-man  was  on 
his  round — the  newsboys  had  long  had  their  "  mornin' 
'dishunj,"  and  were  now  saluting  the  ears  of  pedestrians 
with  their  loud  cries  ;  while  up  from  the  piers  where  the 
Sound  steamers  had  just  arrived,  crowds  of  people  were 
hurrying  with  their  carpet-bags,  valises,  umbrellas  clutched 
firmly  under  their  arms  to  keep  them  from  the  intruding 
clans  of  graceless  runners  and  assiduous  hackmen. 

The  Fall  River  steamer  had  just  reached  her  berth  near 
the  Battery,  and  her  passengers  were  flocking  up  into  the 
street.  The  coaches  and  stages  had  picked  up  their  loads 
and  gone,  and  the  crew  had  already  commenced  to  break 
out  the  freight,  when  an  old  man  made  his  way  slowly  up 
the  gang-plank,  and  turned  towards  the  street.  He  was 
the  last  passenger  to  leave,  and  his  looks  plainly  showed 
that  he  had  but  just  awakened  from  a  sound  sleep.  In 
fact  he  had  been  perched  away  upon  the  top  of  some  bales 
of  coarse  fabric,  and  it  was  not  until  the  men  had  pulled 
down  part  of  his  bed  that  he  was  aroused.  They  helped 
him  out,  and  having  informed  him  that  the  boat  was  in,  he 
made  his  way  up  to  the  street.  Of  years  he  might  not 
have  seen  more  than  fifty,  but  his  form  was  much  bent,  his 
hair  sparse  and  gray,  and  his  face  very  thin,  wan,  and 
sunken.  His  frame  had  once  been  stout  and  strong,  and 
his  bearing  noble,  but  the  hand  of  time  and  sore  disease 
had  made  sad  havoc  upon  him.  His  garb  was  that  of  a 
seaman,  and  much  worn  and  soiled,  and  his  only  luggage 
consisted  of  a  small  bundle,  done  up  in  a  faded  cotton  ker- 
chief, which  he  carried  in  his  left  hand,  using  in  his  right  a 
stout  staff  of  some  foreign  wood  with  which  he  aided  his 
tottering  steps.  He  had  given  his  name  on  board  the  boat 
as  Daro  Kid, 


52  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

The  old  man  moved  slowly  on  until  he  came  to  Barclay 
Street,  when  he  turned  up  towards  Broadway.  At  every 
eating-house  he  came  to  he  would  stop  and  gaze  wistfully 
upon  the  food,  and  then  examine  the  face  of  the  keeper,  as 
though  he  would  decide  from  that  whether  charity  might  be 
found  there.  He  had  turned  into  Barclay  Street,  and  at 
length  came  to  a  small  cellar,  at  the  entrance  to  which  stood 
a  woman.  He  looked  down  and  found  that  meals  were 
served  up  there,  and  then  he  gazed  into  the  female's  face. 
She  was  far  from  being  a  neat-looking  person,  but  yet  there 
was  something  in  her  countenance  which  seemed  to  say 
that  her  heart  was  not  a  hard  one.  She  asked  the  old  man 
if  he  wanted  breakfast. 

"  Aye,  my  good  woman,"  he  quickly  replied,  "  I  do  want 
a  meal  of  victuals,  though  I  hardly  know  whether  I  would 
call  it  a  dinner,  supper,  or  breakfast.  I  have  eaten  nothing 
since  yester-morn,  and  am  faint  and  weak.  I  have  no 
money — not  a  penny,  nor  have  I  much  that  I  can  sell.  If 
you  will  give  me  a  crust  of  bread — something  with  which 
to  appease  my  raging  hunger.  I  will  pay  you  if  I  am  ever 
able.  I  may  not  live  to  see  you  again,  and  I  may  live  to 
pay  you.  But  in  God's  name,  give  me  food  !  I  can  pay 
thee  in  blessings  if  I  have  nothing  else." 

The  woman  cast  her  eyes  over  the  old  man's  trembling 
form,  and  then,  in  a  cheerful,  kindly  tone  she  said: 

"  Come  down,  sir.  We  shouldn't  making  a  living  by  fur- 
nishing  meals  at  such  a  price,  but  'twould  n't  be  Christian- 
like  to  see  a  poor  old  man  die  of  hunger  when  we  have 
plenty  to  eat.  Some  man  may  come  along  to-day  and  pay 
for  double  what  he  eats.  Come — I  guess  we'll  find  some- 
thing." 

The  old  man  followed  her  down,  and  ere  long  she  had 
placed  before  him  a  generous  cut  of  steak,  with  bread,  but- 
ter, potatoes,  and  a  cup  of  coffee.  When  she  had  done 
this  she  went  and  stood  off  opposite  him  where  she  could 
see  Mm  eat. 

*'  God  bless  the  generous  woman  !  "  he  murmured  to 
himself,  as  he  tasted  the  grateful  food.  She  heard  him, 
though  she  knew  it  was  not  meant  for  her  ears,  and  a  sense 
of  satisfaction,  such  as  the  paltry  price  of  a  dozen  meals 
could  not  have  procured,  rested  within  her  bosom.  The 
stranger  soon  consumed  the  food  that  had  been  placed 


DARO  KID.— THE  MERCHANT  AT  HOME.  S3 

before  him,  and  was  about  to  rise  from  the  table  when  the 
woman  approached  him.  She  saw  that  he  moved  reluc- 
tantly, and  she  doubted  if  he  had  eaten  enough. 

"  Won't  you  have  something  else  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  won't  impose  upon  your  charity,  my  generous  friend," 
he  returned. 

"  But  would  you  eat  more  if  you  had  it  ?  " 

"  Yes — I  should — for  I  am  yet  hungry." 

"  Then  wait."  And  thus  speaking  the  woman  went 
away,  and  when  she  returned  she  bore  a  small  tin  tray, 
upon  which  was  a  plate  of  meat  hash,  more  bread  and  but- 
ter, and  another  cup  of  coffee. 

The  old  man  ate  all  of  this,  and  big  tears  stood  in  his 
eyes  as  he  thanked  his  kind  hostess  for  her  bounty.  She 
assured  him  that  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  him  enjoy  the 
food  had  been  pay  enough  for  her,  and  at  length  he  took 
up  his  bundle  and  staff  and  went  away.  He  kept  on  until 
he  came  to  Rushton's,  on  the  corner  of  Barclay  and  Broad- 
way, where  the  woman  of  the  eating-house  had  informed 
him  he  would  be  likely  to  find  a  City  Directory.  He  found 
here  what  he  sought,  and  having  received  permission  to 
look  at  the  book  he  opened  it,  and  spent  some  time  in  por- 
ing over  its  pages.  Finally  he  closed  it,  and  with  a  half- 
audible  prayer  upon  his  lips  he  turned  once  more  into  the 
street. 

%  ***** 

In  one  of  these  splendid  residences  on  Fourteenth  street 
lived  the  wealthy  merchant,  Paul  Tiverton.  Some  years 
before  he  sold  the  old  family  estate  "  down  town,"  with  its 
wide  lawn  and  great  trees,  to  make  room  for  two  blocks  of 
great  stores,  and  had  since  lived  where  we  now  find  him. 
He  had  found  it  hard  to  part  with  the  old  homestead,  but 
the  demand  for  business  called  urgently  for  the  land,  and 
as  the  dwellings  of  his  neighbors  had  been  pulled  down  all 
around  him,  he  finally  consented  to  sell  out,  which  he  did 
for  a  second  fortune.  The  first  floor  above  the  basement 
of  the  merchant's  present  dwelling  was  the  parlor,  all  thrown 
into  one  room,  being  only  partly  divided  by  two  Moorish 
arches  of  gold  and  stucco.  The  furniture  was  of  the  most 
costly  and  sumptuous  kind — the  carpets  like  soft  down, 
and  the  walls  hung  with  magnificent  paintings.  In  the 
rear  of  these  parlors  was  a  continuation-apartment,  formed 


54  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

by  an  addition  to  the  main  building,  and  which  opened 
from  the  front  room  by  two  doors  of  rich  stained  glass. 
Within  this  latter  place  was  Tiverton's  great  private  secre- 
tary, and  here  he  now  sat  engaged  in  overhauling  some 
papers. 

It  was  a  comfortable  place  where  the  merchant  had  thus 
arranged  his  business  matters, — light  and  airy — warm  in 
winter,  and  cool  in  summer,  and  away  from  the  noise  and 
bustle  of  the  street.  It  was  here  that  he  kept  all  his  own 
private  books,  acting  as  his  own  clerk  save  when  Ellen 
Durand  came  into  help  him.  She  had  for  some  three  years 
kept  his  journal  for  him,  and  often  posted  his  accounts  and 
took  care  of  his  most  valuable  papers.  He  had  trusted  her 
with  the  most  important  documents,  and  even  left  their 
arrangement  oftentimes  to  her.  For  this  he  now  felt  lone- 
some and  sad.  This  was  the  first  time  for  a  long,  long 
while  that  he  had  sat  down  in  that  room,  and  opened  his 
ponderous  secretary,  without  having  the  sweet  face  of  Ellen 
Durand  by  his  side.  While  he  sat  thus  one  of  the  glass 
doors  was  opened,  and  a  young  girl  entered  his  apartment. 
She  was  eighteen  years  of  age;  tall  and  straight;  with  black 
hair  and  eyes,  a  face  very  pale  and  thin,  and  possessing  a 
sort  of  cold,  selfish,  haughty  beauty.  Such  was  Isabella 
Tiverton,  the  eldest  child  of  the  merchant  and  his  wife. 
The  father  gazed  up  into  her  face;  but  instead  of  the  warm 
smile  which  might  have  been  expected  from  a  parent  to  a 
child,  he  gave  her  a  look  of  deep,  tremulous  pity. 

"  Pa,"  said  the  girl,  coming  up  and  placing  a  thin,  white 
hand,  upon  which  sparkled  many  jewels,  on  his  shoulder, 
"we  want  some  money."  She  spoke  in  a  drawling,  lisping 
tone,  which  well  accorded  with  the  haziness  of  her  move- 
ments. 

"  Who  is  we!  "  asked  the  merchant,  taking  his  daughter's 
hand,  and  smiling  faintly. 

"  Why — ma  and  me." 

"  Oh — yes.     And  how  much  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  Pooh! — don't  ask  such  foolish  questions.  How  can  we 
tell  how  much  we  may  want  ?" 

"  Let's  see — you  were  out  yesterday  ?  " 

"  I  was  ;  but  ma  wasn't." 

"  Well — "  And  thus  speaking  the  merchant  drew  forth 
his  pocket-book  and  took  from  thence  five  one-hundred- 


DARO  KID.— THE  MERCHANT  AT  HOME.     55 

dollar  notes.  "  There,"  he  continued,  while  a  shade  of 
pain  passed  over  his  face,  "  are  five  hundred  dollars.  I 
suppose  that  will  answer." 

"  Yes,"  said  Isabella,  as  she  took  the  money  and  thrust 
it  into  her  watch-pocket,  "  I  suppose  this  will  do.  Hope 
you  don't  begrudge  it  to  me." 

"  Not  at  all,  my  child.  All  I  can  ask  is,  that  you  will 
be  careful  si  yourselves.  I  would  have  you  remember  that 
money  alone  cannot  confer  happiness." 

"  And  we  won't  forget  that  this  life  would  be  a  very  poor 
thing  without  it,"  said  the  girl  with  a  light,  mellow  laugh. 

"  Are  you  going  out  with  the  carriage  ? "  the  father 
asked. 

"  Yes." 

"  And  will  you  not  call  upon  Ellen  ? " 

«  Qh — no  !  Don't  ask  me  to  do  that,  pa.  I  wouldn't  go 
in  among  those  low  people  for  any  thing." 

"  Low  people  ?     And  what  makes  them  low  ? " 

"  What  makes  them  ?  Why — they  are  poor — and  live  in 
a  mean  house — and  work  just  as  horses  and  oxen  do  !  " 

"  Why,  child,"  spoke  Mr.  Tiverton,  somewhat  sternly,  and 
with  much  bitterness,  "  you  talk  very  foolishly.  That 
woman  who  is  now  nursing  poor  Nelly  is  worth  more  to 
humanity,  and  of  more  account  on  earth,  and  occupies  a 
wider  space  in  the  love  of  Heaven,  than  a  score  of 
beings  like  yourself  !  And  she  is  a  beautiful  woman,  too. 
And  her  son  is  one  of  the  noblest  young  men  in  this  city — 
aye,  one  of  the  most  worthy  I  ever  knew." 

"  You  are  complimentary  to  your  own  flesh  and  blood," 
said  Isabella,  with  a  show  of  more  than  ordinary  feeling. 

"  I  cannot  help  it.  God  knows,  my  child,  it  pains  me  to 
be  obliged  to  say  so.  Come — why  can  you  not  go  and  see 
Nelly  ?  She  would  be  very  happy." 

"  No — I  shall  not.  I  don't  care  if  I  never  see  her  again 
—there  ! " 

"  How  ?— Isabella  ?" 

"  I  don't.  You  think  she's  better*  than  anybody  else, 
and  you  want  to  set  her  up  for  a  pattern." 

"I  would  like  to  have  you  copy  her  manners,  my  child." 

"  Oh  yes — so  you  told  her." 

"  How  do  you  know  I  told  her  so  ?  " 

"  Ma  heard  you." 


5  6  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

"  And  did  your  mother  tell  you  ? " 

"  Yes,  she  did  tell  me  so." 

As  the  girl  thus  spoke  she  turned  quickly  away  and  left 
the  apartment.  Paul  Tiverton  gazed  after  her  until  she 
had  disappeared,  and  then  he  rose  and  commenced  to  pace 
to  and  fro  across  the  room. 

"Oh,  Julia,  Julia!"  he  murmured,  in  broken  accents, 
while  his  whole  frame  quivered  with  emotion,  "  how  can 
you  do  thus  ?  What  have  I  done  that  you  should  thus  drag 
me  down  to  misery  and  suffering  ?  Why  will  you  put  our 
own  child  upon  the  same  fatal  track  ?  Alas  !  ye  are  both 
lost— both  !  both  !  My  child  has  no  heart  left  !  All  is 
bent  and  warped,  until  the  soul  has  become  a  mere  marble 
tenement,  within  which  nothing  but  the  thoughts  and 
images  of  fashion — accursed  fashion — can  find  a  dwelling- 
place.  Oh — ye  might  have  fashion— -fashion,  to  your  heart's 
content — I'd  purchase  it  for  you  gladly,  even  though  it  took 
half  my  fortune,  if  you  would  only  find  some  little  time  for 
holier,  nobler  thoughts  !  But — " 

He  did  not  conclude  the  sentence,  for  just  then  the  door 
opened,  and  a  boy  entered.  The  merchant  turned  and 
opened  his  arms,  and  the  new-comer  was  clasped  to  his 
bosom. 

This  was  Paul  Tiverton's  son.  He  and  Isabella  were 
the  only  two  children  now  left  to  the  merchant  and  his  un- 
happy wife.  They  had  been  blessed  with  others,  but  they 
had  not  lived.  They  came  into  the  world  by  a  mother 
whose  own  system  was  weak  and  shattered,  and  the  seeds 
of  disease  were  sown  even  at  their  birth.  Conrad,  the 
living  boy,  was  fourteen  years  of  age,  and  a  single  look  at 
his  pale,  wan  face  was  sufficient  to  show  that  he  was  not 
long  for  earth.  He  was  tall  for  his  age,  bnt  very  slim  and 
weak.  He  had  a  strong,  clear,  and  grasping  mind,  but  no 
physical  frame  to  sustain  it.  His  breast  was  very  thin  and 
sunken — his  shoulders  narrow  and  rounding,  and  his  step 
feeble  and  tottering.  But  he  had  a  noble  head.  He  had 
his  father's  head,  and  he  had  his  father's  generous  soul. 

"  Well,  my  dear  boy,"  said  the  merchant,  sitting  down 
and  drawing  Conrad  upon  his  knee,  "  how  do  you  feel  to- 
day ?" 

"  I  feel  very  well  indeed,  father,  J  have  not  felt  so  well 
in  a  long  time*" 


A   STARTLING  SCENE.  57 

But,  oh  !  how  hollow  that  voice  sounded  !  The  poor 
man  noticed  it,  and  a  cold  shudder  passed  through  his 
frame.  But  he  smiled,  and  in  a  cheerful  tone  he  said: 

u  Ah — when  the  summer  time  comes,  and  you  can  go  out 
into  the  country,  and  run  around  over  the  green  fields,  and 
snuff  up  the  pure  fresh  air — then  you  will  gain  strength, 
and  perhaps  be  as  well  as  any  one." 

"  Ah,  father — you  can  not  feel  as  I  feel.  I  am  just  as 
sure  that  I  shall  leave  you  ere  the  coming  summer  is  passed 
as  I  am  that  I  now  live.  The  chill  hand  is  heavy  upon  me 
and  I  know  what  I  say.  I  have  watched  the  fading  away 
of  the  body,  and  I  have  kept  a  clear  account  of  the  running 
of  the  sands  in  my  glass.  I  know  very  nearly  when  the 
last  beam  of  earth  will  fade,  and  the  last  sand  drop.  But 
mourn  not,  father.  I  fondly  believe  that  you  will  call  me 
to  mind  only  with  pleasing  memories." 

The  father  could  not  speak.  He  gazed  a  moment  into 
the  face  of  his  boy — he  heard  the  deep  heavy  breathing — 
and  he  felt  how  truly  the  loved  one  had  spoken.  He 
pressed  him  again  to  his  bosom,  and  thus  he  remained  for 
a  long  time.  When  he  was  called  from  the  painful  reverie 
it  was  by  the  servant's  announcing  that  there  was  an  old 
man  at  the  door  who  wanted  to  see  him. 

"  He  is  a  sailor-man,  and  very  poor,"  explained  the  ser- 
vant. 

"  Never  mind,"  returned  Tiverton,  "  show  him  in." 

And  in  a  few  moments  more  the  bent  and  battle-scarred 
form  of  Daro  Kid  stood  before  the  merchant. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A  STARTLING    SCENE. 

'IPHAT  old  man  formed  a  strange  contrast  with  thesump- 

1    tuous   surroundings,  and  he  seemed  to  realize  it,  for 

he  gazed  furtively  about  him,  and  trembled  perceptibly — 

though  his  tremulousness  may  have  been  the  result  of  his 

bodily  weakness.     But  when'his  host  had  handed  him  a 

chair  with  his  own  hand,  and  with  a  kind  smile  bade  him 


58  ORION,  THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

be  seated,  Daro  seemed  more  at  home,  and  began  to  take 
some  rest. 

"  You  have  come  to  see  me,  I  presume,"  said  the  former, 
speaking  very  plainly  and  mildly,  and  evincing  not  a  bit  of 
dislike  to  the  ragged  clothes. 

"  Your  name  is  Paul  Tiverton  ?  " 

"  Yes  that  is  my  name." 

"  Well,  sir — I  did  wish  to  see  you.  I  have  followed  the 
sea  for  many  years,  and  for  many  years,  too,  have  I  been 
absent  from  my  native  country.  I  have  just  returned — I 
arrived  in  Boston  a  week  ago,  and  came  on  here  this  morn- 
ing; and  my  only  desire  is  to  find  some  friend.  I  have 
made  inquiries  for  some  I  left  in  Boston,  but  they  have 
gone — all  gone  home  to  the  land  from  whence  God  suffers 
none  to  return.  There  is  one  left  whom  I  would  find  if 
she  lives,  and  for  that  purpose  I  came  here.  Do  you  know 
if  Aunt  Rhoda  Church  is  living  ?  " 

"  Church  ?  "  repeated  Tiverton.  "  Why — she  was  my 
wife's  aunt — the  sister  of  my  wife's  father." 

"  I  understood  you  had  married  with  a  relative  of  hers, 
and  hence  I  called  upon  you." 

"  Well,  my  good  man,  I  cannot  inform  you  whether  she 
is  living  or  not.  If  I  remember  rightly  she  went  into  the 
Eastern  land  speculation  some  years  since — she  bought  a 
whole  township,  for  which  she  paid  nearly  all  she  had  of 
worldly  goods.  It  turned  out  that  her  township  was  upon 
the  side  of  a  mountain,  and  the  beautiful  mill-stream  which 
had  been  drawn  upon  the  plan  proved  to  be  a  low,  muddy 
brook  which  ran  from  a  soft,  dangerous  bog.  In  fact,  the 
whole  purchase  proved  to  be  a  wicked  snare.  She  went  on 
to  see  if  any  thing  could  be  saved,  and  I  have  not  heard 
from  her  since.  Perhaps  my  wife  may  have  received  some 
intelligence,  however.  Might  I  ask  what  relation  exists 
between  yourself  and  the  lady  in  question  ?  " 

The  old  man  hesitated  ere  he  answered,  and  seemed  to 
be  somewhat  troubled;  and  when  he  did  speak  his  voice  was 
unsteady,  and  far  from  being  frank. 

"  She  was  only  a  friend  to  me  in  years  gone  by,"  he  said. 
"  That's  all.  I  knew  her  well,  and  she  knew  me." 

"  Then  she  is  no  relation  of  yours  ? " 

"  Oh  no,  sir — not  at  all.  When  I  was  a  youngster,  and  with- 
out friends,  she  gave  me  a  home,  and  was  very  kind  to  me." 


A    STARTLING  SCENE.  59 

«  Ah — well — yes,  yes.  My  wife  will  be  at  home  ere  long, 
and  she  may  know." 

"  You  will  not  have  me  see  any  ladies,  I  hope,"  said  the 
old  man  quite  eagerly. 

"  Oh — there  is  no  need  of  that  if  you  don't  wish  it,"  the 
merchant  returned.  "  I  will  see  Mrs.  T.  when  she  comes, 
and  let  you  know  the  result." 

For  some  minutes  after  this,  the  little  party  sat  in  pro- 
found silence,  which  was  at  length  broken  by  Conrad.  The 
boy  moved  close  to  the  old  man's  side,  and  gazing  earnestly 
up  into  his  face  he  said: 

"You  are  very  poor,  are  you  not  ? " 

"  Yes,  my  son — I  am,"  returned  Kid,  with  a  trembling 
lip  ;  and  then,  after  a  moment's  pause,  while  he  placed  his 
weather-browned  hand  upon  the  boy's  shoulder,  he  added 
— "But  my  poverty  is  not  the  result  of  any  evil  on  my  part. 
While  fortune  has  been  favoring  some  it  has  been  leaving 
others  in  darkness  and  in  trouble.  Once  I  was  buoyant 
and  gay,  and  dreamed  not  that  /  could  ever  become  poor 
and  dependent.  I  was  strong  and  hopeful,  and  went  forth 
boldly  to  battle  with  the  events  of  life.  I  mean  to  be  good 
and  honest,  for  so  I  knew  I  should  most  surely  succeed. 
A  noble  and  virtuous  mother  had  taught  me  the  great 
lessons  of  the  Christian's  life,  and  I  forgot  them  not.  I 
could  not  forget  them  while  I  loved  her  blessed  memory  ; 
and  her  memory  I  could  not  put  from  me  while  in  all  other 
respects  I  was  alone  on  earth.  Ah,  my  son,  if  you  would 
be  a  happy  man,  never  forget  the  lessons  of  a  tried  and 
loving  mother — " 

"  Nor  of  a  noble  and  generous  father,"  whispered  Con- 
rad, evidently  meaning  that  his  parent  should  not  hear  his 
words. 

"  Nobly  spoken,  my  boy,"  said  the  old  man,  with  energy. 
"  Only  I  lost  my  father  before  I  was  old  enough  to  prove 
him.  But  it's  all  the  same — father  or  mother.  You  won't 
think  me  over  free  for  speaking  thus,  for  I  am  an  old  man, 
and  know  all  about  it." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Conrad,  "  I  love  to  hear  you." 

"  Well — I  was  only  going  to  say  this  :  You  see  me  an  old 
worn-out  man.  I  commenced  life,  as  I  said  before,  strong 
and  hopeful  ;  but  misfortunes  came.  I  lost  those  I  loved, 
and  was  left  alone.  Then  I  was  cast  away,  and  for  long 


<5o  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

years  I  was  miserable  and  unhappy  in  body.  But  even  now, 
with  all  my  earthly  misfortunes,  I  can  look  back  and  say 
that  I  have  not  forgotten  the  good  lesson  my  mother  gave 
me.  I  was  never  drunk  ;  I  never  told  a  lie  ;  I  never 
wronged  a  fellow-being,  and  I  never  took  the  name  of  my 
Maker  in  vain.  And  now  just  think  how  much  happier  I 
am  for  all  this.  Ah,  my  son,  if  you  grow  up  to  be  a  man, 
you  won't  forget  it.  Be  sure  that  such  a  boon  in  an  old 
age  is  worth  more  than  worldly  wealth.  I  would  not  sell 
the  consciousness  that  I  never  betrayed  the  dying  trust  of 
my  mother  for  all  the  riches  of  earth." 

The  old  man  spoke  all  this  with  an  honest,  open-hearted 
simplicity  which  proved  two  things  :  First,  that  he  was 
totally  unacquainted  with  the  cold,  outer  fashions  of  society; 
and,  secondly,  that  his  heart  was  true  and  faithful.  Had 
he  been  versed  in  the  common  usages  of  society  he  would 
never  have  dared  thus  to  force  his  moral  precepts  upon  one 
so  far  above  him  in  the  social  scale.  But  he  had  seen  that 
in  the  boy's  face  which  told  him  he  had  a  generous 
heart  to  deal  with,  and  hence  he  had  been  free  and 
composed. 

Conrad  gazed  a  few  moments  into  the  old  man's  face, 
and  then  he  turned  away  and  left  the  room. 

"  I  hope  I  have  not  offended  the  youngster,"  said  Daro 
as  the  boy  withdrew. 

"  Oh,  no.  You  need  have  no  fear  of  that,"  replied  the 
merchant. 

Ere  long  Conrad  returned,  and  in  his  hand  he  bore  a 
small  purse  made  of  common  chamois  leather. 

"  My  good  old  friend,"  he  said,  advancing  to  where  the 
visitor  sat,  "  I  know  you  are  poor, — I  think  very  poor.  Is 
it  not  so  ?  " 

The  old  man  trembled,  and  a  bright  tear  stole  out  upon 
his  heavy  lids;  but  he  did  not  hesitate  long,  though  his 
answer  was  given  in  a  tone  which  seemed  to  indicate  that 
he  had  no  desire  to  force  the  story  of  his  extreme  poverty 
upon  his  friends. 

"  I  am  poor,"  he  said.  "  My  last  penny  I  paid  for  a  pas- 
sage on  the  steamer.  This  morning  a  good  woman  gave 
me  a  meal  of  victuals," 

"  Then  take  this,"  resumed  Conrad,  at  the  same  time 
extending  the  purse.  "  Do  not  hesitate,  for  I  have  no  use 


A    STARTLING  SCENE.  6 1 

of  it.  It  is  gold,  and  if  you  use  it  properly  it  will  support 
you  some  time." 

"  But—" 

<fc  No  buts  until  you  have  taken  the  purse,"  interposed 
the  generous  boy,  as  Daro  attempted  to  speak.  "  If  you 
would  afford  me  an  additional  item  of  joy  for  this  short  life 
you  will  accept  my  gift.  I  give  it  as  one  who  has  plenty, 
to  one  who  has  no  need.  From  me  to  you  it  is  but  due." 

The  old  man  cast  an  inquisitive  look  into  the  father's 
face,  and  as  the  latter  saw  the  meaning  of  the  look  he 
said: 

"  Take  it,  sir.     My  son  will  feel  happier  if  you  do." 

So  the  poor  man  took  the  purse  and  clutched  it  in  his 
hand.  It  was  very  heavy,  and  the  contents  gave  forth  that 
peculiar  sound  which  only  gold  can  produce.  He  looked 
upon  it  a  moment,  and  then  turned  his  gaze  into  the  face 
of  his  boy-friend.  His  nether  lip  quivered — his  whole 
frame  trembled,  and  in  a  moment  he  burst  into  tears. 

"  God  bless  you  !  "  he  fervently  ejaculated,  as  he  reached 
forth  one  trembling  hand  and  placed  it  upon  the  boy's  head. 
"  As  true  as  God  lives  this  is  the  first  time  in  long  years 
that  I  have  held  in  my  hands  the  means  for  the  morrow's 
sustenance  !  It  is  a  happy  thought  that  to-morrow  I  shall 
not  beg  !  Oh  !  could  I  work — could  I  even  dig  in  the 
earth — I  would  not  take  this — I  would  leave  it  for  some 
one  needed  it  more, — but  my  strength  of  body  is  gone.  I 
will  not  spend  a  penny  of  this  without  remembering  the 
generous  donor,  and  asking  God  to  bless  him  !  " 

Both  Conrad  and  his  father  were  deeply  affected  by  this, 
and  surely  they  must  have  felt  that  they  had  purchased 
this  amount  of  happiness,  for  themselves  and  for  another, 
very  cheaply.  But  before  any  further  remark  could  be 
made  the  front  door  was  heard  to  open,  and  Conrad  made 
the  remark  that  his  mother  had  returned. 

"  As  soon  as  my  wife  has  removed  her  things,"  said  Mr. 
Tiverton,  "  I  will  call  upon  her  and  make  the  inquiry  you 
would  have  answered." 

But  instead  of  going  directly  to  her  own  apartments  Mrs. 
Tiverton  threw  off  her  bonnet  and  mantle  in  the  hall,  giving 
them  in  charge  to  her  maid,  and  then  moved  towards  her 
husband's  study.  Perhaps  she  supposed  he  had  gone 
to  his  counting-house,  for  she  entered  th$  narrow  apart* 


62  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

ment  with  a  careless,  fatigued  air,  as  though  she  had 
intended  to  throw  herself  upon  one  of  the  easy  sofas  there. 
She  had  fairly  entered,  and  allowed  the  glass  door  to  close 
behind  her,  ere  she  noticed  the  presence  of  her  husband, 
and  she  would  have  withdrawn  at  once  had  not  he  detained 
her. 

"Julia,"  he  said,  "stop  a  moment.  Here  is  a  man  who 
has  called  to  make  some  inquiries." 

"Who?  This  man?'*  cried  the  painted  woman  in  dis- 
gust, as  she  moved  as  far  away  as  possible  from  the  poor 
visitor. 

"  Yes,"  returned  her  husband,  "  he  has — " 

"  You  can  enjoy  his  company  as  long  as  you  please,"  in- 
terrupted the  woman,  with  a  look  and  tone  of  deep  disdain  ; 
"  but  I  pray  you  to  relieve  me  from  the  infection  !  " 

She  was  about  to  hurry  from  the  place,  when  Mr.  Tiver- 
ton  spoke  ;  and  there  was  a  strange  tone  of  command  in 
the  words  that  caused  her  to  stop  and  turn. 

"  Julia/'  he  said,  sharply  and  sternly,  "  this  poor  man  is 
without  friends,  and  he  has  come  here  to  try  and  find  the 
only  being  on  earth  from  whom  he  can  claim  that  boon — 
and  we  know  not  that  even  she  may  be  living.  He  wishes 
to  find  old  Aunt  Rhoda  Church." 

" He — find  Aunt  Rhoda?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Tiverton, 
gazing  for  the  first  time  full  into  the  old  man's  face. 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  returned  the  humble  visitor.  "I  would 
like  to  find  the  good  old  woman.  When  I  last  saw  her  she 
—she—" 

Thus  far  the  old  man  had  spoken  in  a  tremulous,  unsteady 
tone,  and  with  his  gaze  fixed  upon  the  woman's  face  ;  but 
he  could  not  proceed. ..  His  voice  faltered,  and  finally  failed 
him.  But  the  attention  of  the  merchant  was  quickly  called 
from  him  to  his  wife,  for  her  manner  began  to  be  more 
strange  and  unaccountable  than  had  been  that  of  the 
former. 

Mrs.  Tiverton  had  returned  the  old  man's  gaze  for  a  few 
moments,  but  suddenly  her  face  grew  ashen  pale  where  the 
paint  did  not  hide  it,  and  her  frame  shook  fearfully.  She 
moved  a  step  nearer  to  where  the  stranger  sat,  and  in  a 
faint,  spasmodic  tone  she  uttered: 

"  What  of  Rhoda  Church  ?    What  is  she  to  you  ?     Who 


A   STARTLING  SCENE.  63 

The  toil-worn  man  trembled  until  every  joint  shook,  and 
when  he  spoke  it  was  in  a  hoarse,  agonized  whisper  : 
;I  am  what  you  see.     Alas  !  not  what  I  was  !  " 

Julia  Tiverton  uttered  one  low  cry  of  fear  and  pain,  and 
then  sank  down  faint  and  powerless! 

Daro  Kid  turned  to  Conrad,  and  while  the  tears  streamed 
down  his  eyes,  and  his  bent  frame  quivered,  he  asked  : 

"  She  is  your  mother  ?" 

"  Yes,"  whispered  the  boy,  in  a  state  of  utter  bewilder- 
ment. 

"  Here — here — "  the  old  man  cried,  forcing  the  purse  of 
gold  back  into  the  noble  boy's  hand,  "  take — it, — I  can  not 
keep  it.  Oh,  God,  I  cannot!  I  will  bless  thee  the  same — 
I  will  pray  for  thee  always — but — but — " 

The  words  were  lost  in  a  burst  of  anguish,  and  seizing 
his  hat  the  strange  man  rushed  from  the  place.  Mr.  Tiver- 
ton started  from  the  side  of  his  prostrate  wife  and  hurried 
after  him,  overtaking  him  at  the  front  door,  where  he  had 
been  stopped  by  his  inability  to  raise  the  night-latch. 

"  Hold  !  hold,  sir  ! "  the  merchant  cried,  seizing  Kid  by 
the  arm  and  pulling  him  back.  "  Here — this  way.  Come 
in  here  for  one  moment  !  " 

As  Tiverton  thus  spoke  he  seized  the  wire  of  the  door- 
bell, which  was  close  at  hand,  and  when  the  servant  girl 
came  to  answer  the  summons  he  directed  her  to  go  and 
attend  to  her  mistress.  After  this  he  pulled  the  old  man 
into  the  front  parlor,  and  there  confronted  him.  He  was 
very  pale,  and  his  stout  frame  shook  with  excitement. 

"  Oh  !  "  he  gasped,  "  do  not  leave  me  until  you  have  ex- 
plained this  strange  scene.  I  have  a  right  to  ask — I  have 
a  right  to  know.  Tell  me — tell  me — Oh,  in  God's  name,  I 
conjure  you  to  tell  me  what  all  this  means  !  " 

The  old  man  started  back  from  the  merchant's  grasp,  and 
with  one  mighty  effort  he  claimed  the  raging  emotions  that 
had  so  wonderfully  affected  him. 

"  Paul  Tiverton,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  mystic  power, 
"  you  know  not  what  you  ask.  Let  me  go — let  me  go  !  " 

"  Not  until  you  have  told  me  what  I  ask.  What  does  all 
this  mean  ?  Oh,  by  all  your  hopes  of  help  and  peace  on 
earth,  and  happiness  hereafter,  I  pray  you  tell  me  !  " 

"  You  know  not  what  you  ask.  Oh,  I  meant  not  to  have 
seen  her.  Let  me  go,  sir — let  me  go." 


64  ORJOAT,    THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

"  Once  more,  old  man,  I  ask  you  to  tell  me  this  secret." 

Tiverton  grasped  Kid  again  by  the  arm  as  he  spoke, 
and  glared  into  his  face  like  a  madman.  The  latter  seemed 
for  a  moment  to  be  frightened;  but  with  a  strong  effort  he 
overcame  the  emotion,  and  a  shade  of  relief  passed  over  his 
face  as  a  new  thought  entered  his  mind. 

"  By  the  powers  that  hold  us  up,  old  man,  you  must  tell 
me,"  resumed  the  merchant,  as  the  other  hesitated.  "  You 
have  no  right  to  keep  it  from  me.  Come — speak  ! " 

"  Paul  Tiverton,"  spoke  the  strange  man,  more  calmly 
than  before,  "your  wife  must  know  all  you  would  ask. 
Go  to  her.  You  may  command  her — but  you  can  not  com- 
mand me.  Ask  her — ask  her  what  you  will — but  you  need 
not  look  to  me  for  light,  for  I  will  not,  I  can  not  speak. 
Listen  :  Were  it  in  your  power  to  put  back  the  hand  of 
death  from  me  at  this  moment,  I  would  not  purchase  your 
intervention  by  opening  my  lips  to  speak  the  story  you  seek. 
Now  let  me  go." 

"  But  tell  me  this,"  cried  the  merchant,  after  a  moment's 
hesitation.  "  Shall  I  see  you  again  ? " 

"  Aye — if  I  live  you  shall.  If  you  meet  me  not  other- 
wise, I  will  come  to  you,  for  I  would  find  Rhoda  Church." 

"  Then  you  may  go  ;  but  ere  you  do  so  you  must  take 
this  purse.  Stop.  Hear  me  out  first.  You  must  have 
seen  my  boy's  weakness  upon  his  face.  He  can  not  live 
much  longer.  If  you  refuse  his  bounty  he  will  be  sorry, 
and  it  may  injure  him  much,  for  his  mind  is  easily  operated 
upon.  Let  me  assure  him  that  you  have  retained  his  gift, 
and  he  will  be  happy." 

"  Then,  sir,  I  will  take  it  thankfully,  and  I  will  not  for- 
get to  bless  the  noble  giver." 

Paul  Tiverton  passed  out  into  the  hall,  and  having 
opened  the  front  door  the  old  man  went  out.  Not  another 
word  was  spoken.  The  merchant  watched  the  bent  and 
feeble  form  as  it  tottered  away  from  the  door,  nor  could  he 
remove  his  eyes  from  it  until  his  strange  visitor  had  turned 
the  distant  corner.  As  he  stepped  back  into  the  hall  he 
saw  the  maid  leading  his  wife  up  the  broad  stairway.  He 
caught  a  glimpse  of  her  face — the  paint  had  been  all  washed 
away — and  it  was  as  pale  as  death.  He  could  not  bear  to 
question  her  now,  and  he  went  into  the  parlor  and  closed 
the  door  behind  him,  where  he  remained  for  a  long  time, 


SHADOWS.  65 

pacing  to  and  fro,  with  his  head  bowed,  his  hands  clenched, 
and  his  soul  stirred  up  to  a  state  of  agony  intense,  as  he 
wondered  what  explanation  his  wife  could  give  of  the 
remarkable  scene  he  had  witnessed. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

SHADOWS. 

WHILE  Mr.  Tiverton  yet  paced  up  and  down  with 
noiseless  tread  upon  the  soft  carpet  he  was  aroused 
from  his  reverie  by  hearing  his  name  pronounced  in  the 
back  room,  and  upon  going  in  there  he  found  his  coach- 
man inquiring  for  him  of  his  son. 

"  What  is  it,  Thomas  ?  "  the  merchant  asked. 

"  Will  you  have  the  horses  put  up,  sir  ?" 

"  Yes — Ah — no.  Stop  a  moment.  No — you  may  let 
them  be.  Conrad,  wouldn't  you  like  to  ride  up  and  see 
Nelly?" 

"  Yes — by  all  means,"  quickly  returned  the  boy. 

"  Then  let  the  coach  be  at  the  door,  Thomas,  and  I  will 
be  out  soon." 

The  coachman  withdrew,  and  as  the  father  and  son  were 
left  alone  the  latter  moved  to  his  parent's  side  and  placed 
his  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"  Did  you  make  him  take  the  money,  father  ?  "  he  asked 
eagerly. 

"  Yes,  yes,  my  son.     He  took  it  freely." 

"  And  what  could  he  have  meant  by  his  strange 
behavior  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  the  least  idea,  Conrad — not  the  least.  I 
asked  him  but  he  would  not  tell  me.  I  urged  with  all  the 
power  of  persuasion  I  could  command,  but  he  would  say 
not  a  word  on  the  subject.  He  only  bade  me  ask—  your 
mother." 

"  It  was  very  strange,"  the  boy  murmured,  half  to  him- 
self. 

"  Very — very,"  added  the  father.  "  It  is  beyond  my 
power  of  comprehension.  But  I  may  learn  it  from  her." 

"  But  why  should  he  have  thrown  back  the  money  which 


66  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

I  had  given  him  ?  He  seemed  to  have  a  dread  of  me — and 
it  was  because  I  was  her  child  !  " 

A  cold  shudder  crept  through  the  stout  man's  frame  as 
he  heard  this,  and  he  turned  away  his  face  to  hide  his  emo- 
tions from  his  child.  But  he  put  an  end  to  the  theme  by 
bidding  the  boy  go  and  prepare  for  the  ride. 

Conrad  hurried  away,  and  ere  long  he  returned  all  ready 
to  go  out.  His  father  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  having 
led  him  to  the  carriage  he  handed  him  in,  and  then  fol- 
lowed himself.  The  fresh  air  was  grateful  to  the  young 
invalid,  and  the  parent  at  length  succeeded  in  drawing  his 
attention  away  from  the  subject  of  the  affair  which  had  so 
lately  transpired.  When  they  reached  Mrs.  LindeH's  cot- 
tage the  good  hostess  admitted  them  to  the  house,  and 
then  bade  them  wait  while  she  went  to  prepare  Ellen  for 
their  coming. 

The  fair  girl  was  very  happy  to  see  Conrad,  and  drew  his 
head  down  by  the  side  of  her  own,  and  thus  they  remained 
for  some  time. 

"  Nelly,"  said  the  boy,  while  his  face  was  thus  pillowed 
thus  by  the  side  of  her  own,  "you  must  get  well  and  come 
home  before  I  go." 

"  Before  you  go  ? "  repeated  the  maiden  in  surprise. 

"  Yes.     You  know  I  am  going  away  soon." 

"I  did  not  know  it,  my  dear  brother." 

"  Ah,  you  don't  understand.  I  speak  of  the  long  journey 
— the  last  and  best  journey  of  life — the  passage  from  mortal 
to  immortal." 

"  Hush,  Conrad.  Don't  speak  so  any  more.  The  sweet 
breath  of  spring  will  revive  you." 

"  It  does  revive  me,  sweet  sister,  and  it  puts  me  in  mind 
of  the  calm  and  peaceful  land  beyond.  God  has  been  very 
good  to  keep  me  through  the  cold  winter." 

"  Aye — and  he  will  keep  you  much  longer.  I  shall  soon 
get  well,  and  then  I'll  come  home,  and  we'll  be  very  happy 
for  a  long  time." 

"While  they  were  thus  conversing  Mr.  Tiverton  stood 
apart  and  gazed  upon  them,  and  the  expression  of  his  face 
showed  that  deep,  very  deep  thoughts  were  passing  through 
his  mind.  As  he  gazed  he  could  not  but  think  that  the 
beloved  boy  was  fast  fading  away.  He  saw  before  him  all 
he  had  to  deeply  love  and  cherish  on  earth.  Those  two 


SHADOWS.  67 

were  the  only  ones  who  were  good  to  him,  or  who  tried  to 
make  him  happy.  That  wife  whom  he  had  cherished  and 
protected,  and  for  whose  comfort  his  whole  wealth  was 
pledged,  cared  little  for  him.  She  gave  him  no  moment  of 
genial  companionship,  but  only  treat  him  as  a  necessary 
evil  without  which  she  could  not  keep  up  her  establishment. 
He  knew  that  her  faith  was  not  his,  and  that  her  heart 
never  yearned  for  his  love.  And  then  he  saw  his  oldest 
child  dragged  away  with  her,  and  her  heart,  too,  warped 
from  him,  and  her  soul  undermined  and  corrupted. 

Oh,  such  thoughts  came  often  upon  him,  and  they  gave 
him  such  pain  as  few  can  realize.  There  was  a  great  and 
noble  heart  wronged  and  bruised  ;  a  generous,  virtuous 
soul  rent  and  tortured  with  anguish,  and  a  worthy,  deserv- 
ing life-cup  overrun  with  gall  and  bitterness.  And  amid 
all  this  he  could  only  turn  to  those  two  before  him  for  love 
and  joy.  In  their  companionship  alone  could  he  find  those 
few  flowers  which  shed  a  fragrance  over  his  else  dark  path- 
way. 

And  now  even  this  last  cup  was  embittered.  As  he  gazed 
upon  the  most  precious  jewel — most  precious  because  it 
was  his  own  flesh — he  marked  the  hand  of  the  destroyer 
laid  heavily  upon  it.  He  knew  that  the  light  must  soon  go 
out — that  the  loved  casket  must  fall  to  earth — and  the  jewel 
be  snatched  away  forever  from  this  home  of  the  body. 

And  it  is  a  wonder  that  his  mind  should  run  further  on  ? 
He  saw  that  his  sweet  son  must  soon  pass  away,  and  then 
his  thoughts  dwelt  upon  the  beloved  girl  who  had  been  so 
long  a  source  of  joy  and  comfort  to  him.  She  was  growing 
older — she  was  beautiful — and  ere  long  some  favored  one 
would  come  and  take  her  away  to  a  home  of  her  own,  where 
she  would  be  mistress,  and  where  new  affections  would 
cluster  about  her. 

And  what  should  he  do  after  this  ?  Alas  !  he  dared  not 
think  of  it.  It  was  too  dark  and  drear.  And  yet  he  felt 
that  it  must  come.  He  was  in  the  midst  of  this  reverie 
when  Ellen  called  to  him,  and  as  he  approached  her  bed- 
side his  face  brightened,  and  some  gleam  of  happiness 
shone  upon  it. 

Ellen  Durand  was  yet  very  weak,  but  the  doctor  had 
assured  her  that  if  she  was  careful  she  would  escape  the 
systematic  fever.  His  treatment  had  been  judicious,  and 


68  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

he  had  aimed  to  assist  nature  in  all  its  legitimate  functions. 
Instead  of  weakening  the  system  with  blood-letting  and  un- 
necessary opiates,  thereby  reducing  the  power  of  the  body 
to  resist  disease,  he  had  followed  a  natural  course,  relieving 
the  sense  of  pain  as  much  as  was  consistent,  but  not  enough 
to  deaden  it.  She  had  been  informed  that  it  would  be  two 
weeks,  at  the  least,  before  she  could  be  moved  with  safety, 
the  frame  having  received  so  severe  a  shock  that  sooner 
exertion  would  be  dangerous. 

When  the  merchant  came  out  from  the  sick-room  and 
descended  to  the  parlor,  he  found  Mrs.  Lindell  seated  by 
the  window.  As  she  did  not  turn  to  greet  him  he  at  first 
thought  of  passing  on  without  disturbing  her,  but  upon 
second  thought  he  feared  she  might  think  he  had  slighted 
her  if  he  did  so,  and  he  spoke. 

"  I  find  your  fair  charge  much  easier  than  I  had  ex- 
pected,"  he  said,  moving  toward  the  spot  where  Mrs.  Lin- 
dell  sat. 

"  Ah — yes,  sir,"  she  returned,  starting  at  the  sound  of 
his  voice,  and  trembling  slightly  as  she  met  his  gaze. 

But  that  tremulousness  soon  passed  away,  though  it  left 
her  face  very  pale. 

"  Let  me  assure  you,  madam,"  he  resumed,  "  that  I  am 
very  thankful  fortune  has  thrown  my  ward  in  such  good 
hands." 

Mrs.  Lindell  bowed  her  head,  but  she  did  not  speak. 
Her  lips  trembled,  but  no  words  came  forth.  The  mer- 
chant gazed  hard  upon  her,  and  his  own  look  grew  more 
intense  and  earnest.  Suddenly  a  gleam  of  intelligence 
lighted  up  his  handsome  features,  and  in  a  quick,  sudden 
manner  he  said  : 

"  Lady — pardon  me — but — I  never  noticed  it  before — 
— have  we  not  met  ere  this  ?  " 

Catherine  Lindell  cast  one  seeking,  searching  glance  into 
the  man's  face,  and  then,  in  a  bursting,  struggling  tone, 
she  gasped — 

"  Excuse  me,  sir — but — she  may — need  my  attendance." 
And  with  these  words  upon  her  lips  she  turned  away  and 
hurried  from  the  room. 

"  Just  heavens  !  "  ejaculated  Tiverton,  with  a  look  and 
tone  of  mingled  astonishment  and  pain.  "  Can  it  be  pos- 
sible that  she  misunderstood  me  ?  Can  she  hold  one  single 


SHADOWS.  69 

doubt  of  my — my — honor  ?  Can  she  for  one  moment  sup- 
pose that  I  am  a  villain  ? "  He  trembled  as  he  spoke,  and 
every  look  showed  that  he  was  deeply  pained. 

"  Father,"  said  Conrad,  moving  to  his  parent's  side, 
"  there  is  something  strange  in  that  woman's  behavior.  She 
watched  you  most  curiously  ere  you  turned  full  towards 
her.  You  are  mistaken.  I  am  sure,  from  her  whole  man- 
ner, that  she  mistook  you  for  some  other  person.  Of 
course  you  have  never  had  any  dealings  with  her." 

"  None  that  I  know  of,  my  son." 

"  Then  rest  assured  that  she  mistook  you  for  some  one 
else — some  one,  perhaps,  whom  she  has  occasion  to  fear." 

"And  yet,"  murmured  the  merchant,  half  to  himself, 
"  there  is  something  in  her  countenance  which  is  familiar. 
I  never  noticed  it  until  to-day.  But  now  I  see  a  face  which 
brings  back  some  lost  memory  of  the  past.  I  have  surely 
seen  her." 

"  Then  perhaps  her  impression  may  be  correct." 

"  What— that  should  lead  her  to  fear  me  ?  " 

The  boy  gazed  in  his  father's  face  and  was  silent.  Paul 
Tiverton  saw  the  look,  and  he  knew  its  import.  He  knew 
that  his  boy  dared  not  say  that  his  father  might  not,  at 
some  former  time,  have  done  some  deed  of  which  he  had 
since  repented.  A  bright,  warm  glow  suffused  the  mer- 
chant's face  as  he  answered,  for  he  knew  that  he  could 
speak  a  truth  that  would  give  his  child  peace  and  joy. 

"  Conrad,"  he  spoke,  taking  his  boy's  hand,  and  gazing 
calmly  into  his  face,  "  on  all  this  earth  there  lives  not  a 
being  who  can  say  that  Paul  Tiverton  ever  did  him,  or  her, 
any  harm.  I  am  not  aware  of  one  act  of  my  whole  life  that 
can  be  brought  against  me  by  my  fellows.  There  may  be 
shortcomings  and  sins  upon  my  soul,  but  they  rest  between 
myself  and  my  God,  and  men  have  no  affair  in  them.  So 
dismiss  any  fear  on  that  score,  my  child." 

"  Oh,  I  bless  thee  for  this,  my  father  !  "  the  boy  uttered, 
fervently  and  energetically,  "  for  every  new  assurance  of 
my  father's  worth  makes  me  happier  in  the  love  I  bear  him." 

The  stout  man  bent  over  and  imprinted  a  warm  kiss  on 
the  brow  of  his  generous  boy,  and  then,  having  wiped  a 
tear  from  his  eye,  he  turned  from  the  house.  The  carriage 
was  waiting  for  them  at  the  gate,  and  they  jumped  in  and 
were  driven  off. 


76  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

It  was  some  time  after  Mrs.  Lindell  left  the  merchant  and 
his  son  ere  she  went  up  to  the  chamber  where  Ellen  Durand 
lay.  She  was  not  composed  enough  at  first ;  but  when  she 
succeeded  in  becoming  calm  she  went  in,  and  taking  up  her 
sewing  she  sat  down  by  the  bedside.  She  had  been  thus 
some  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes  before  either  of  them  spoke, 
but  at  length  Ellen  broke  the  silence.  She  had  been  gaz- 
ing into  her  watcher's  face  for  some  minutes,  and  while  a 
peculiar  shade  passed  over  her  features  she  said: 

"  Mrs.  Lindell,  your  son  must  be  a  very  fearless  man." 

The  woman  started  and  looked  up  from  her  work. 

"  Ah,"  she  replied,  while  a  flush  of  generous  pride  suf- 
fused her  face,  "  he  fears  nothing  where  a  worthy  person 
is  in  danger.  He  fears  nothing  but  to  do  a  mean  or 
wicked  action.  He  can  not  do  that." 

"  One  might  know  he  could  not,"  resumed  the  girl,  with 
much  assurance.  "  You  never  find  a  real  noble  nature 
prone  to  evil.  He  can  not  be  very  old." 

"  Only  twenty-two." 

"  And  so  strong  ?  "  murmured  Ellen. 

"  Ah,  but  he  has  always  been  fond  of  athletic  sport," 
explained  the  mother:  "  and  he  had  always  worked  hard, 
too.  And  then  nature  has  not  only  given  him  a  powerful 
frame,  but  he  has  never  abused  it  by  disobeying  the  natural 
laws.  His  life  has  been  one  of  perfect  temperance,  both  in 
eating  and  drinking." 

As  the  widow  thus  spoke  she  chanced  to  cast  her  eye  out 
at  the  window,  and  she  saw  the  man  whom  her  son  pointed 
out  as  Jasper  Thornton.  He  was  conversing  with  Doctor 
Stanley,  and  both  stood  on  the  opposite  sidewalk.  At  first 
she  thought  of  saying  nothing  to  her  charge  about  the  fel- 
low's presence,  but  as  she  gazed  into  the  calm  sweet  fea- 
tures before  her  she  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  having 
her  imposed  upon  by  a  villain.  Orion  had  told  her  the 
man's  whole  character,  and  she  felt  that  the  girl  ought  to 
know  of  it  before  he  had  an  opportunity  of  working  any 
more  upon  her  affections.  A  slight  tremor  shook  her  frame 
as  the  subject  first  occupied  her  mind,  but  as  her  revolution 
was  taken  she  became  calm.  Yet  she  resolved  to  approach 
the  thing  carefully. 

"  Ellen/'  she  said,  "  Jasper  Thornton  may  call  to  see  you 
ere  long." 


SHADOWS.  71 

The  fair  girl  started,  and  it  was  plainly  to  be  seen  that 
an  unpleasant  sensation  passed  through  her  mind. 

"  I  don't  think  I  should  wish  to  see  him,"  she.  at  length 
said,  in  a  low,  thoughtful  tone. 

"  But  you  would  feel  very  badly  if,  from  your  refusal  to 
see  him,  he  should  break  off  all  connection  with  you  ?  " 

"  No,  no,"  she  quickly  returned  ;  "  for  then  I  should 
know  what  I  now  only  suspect.  It  would  not  pain  me 
at  all." 

"  But  you  would  not  wish  to  hear  anything  to  his  disad- 
vantage." 

"  If  it  was  a  direct  evil  of  his  own  I  would  bless  the  one 
who  revealed  it  to  me;  for,  to  you,  my  almost  mother,  I 
will  not  hesitate  to  say,  that  I  have  long  feared  he  was  not 
all  that  he  should  be,  nor  all  that  he  represented  himself 
to  be." 

"  Then  I  know  I  may  tell  you,"  said  the  widow,  in  a  tone 
of  relief,  "  and  when  I  have  told  you  you  will  readily  ap- 
preciate my  motives.  Oh,  I  cannot  bear  to  look  upon  you, 
and  think  that  you  should  be  imposed  upon  by  a  villain. 
Jasper  Thornton  is  not  worth  one  penny  !  His  whole  for- 
tune he  has  drunk  and  gambled  away,  and  now,  having 
learned  many  of  the  tricks  by  which  the  gamblers  took  his 
money  from  him,  he  uses  them  in  robbing  others.  He 
enticed  a  young  man  who  works  with  Orion,  into  play,  and 
having  half  stupefied  him  with  drugged  liquor,  he  robbed 
him  of  several  hundred  dollars  ! " 

"  But  he  practices  his  medical  profession  some  ? "  said 
Ellen  very  calmly. 

"  Yes — among  the  poor  lost  ones  of  our  own  sex  !  " 

"  I  think  that  you  would  not  tell  me  this  if  you  did  not 
know  it." 

"  I  could  not,"  replied  Mrs.  Lindell.  "  Nor  would  I  have 
told  it  had  I  even  had  it  by  simple  second  hand;  but  Orion 
knows.  When  his  shopmate  had  lost  his  money  he  went 
with  him  to  the  gaming  house,  and  found  Thornton  there 
engaged  in  play;  and  it  was  the  keener  himself  who  gave 
the  history  of  his  great  loss  by  gaming — Ah — he  is  coming 
across  the  street  now — and  towards  the  house." 

"Then  hasten  down  and  tell  him  I  am  not  strong  enough 
to  see  him  at  present.  I  will  see  my  guardian  and  confer 
with  him.  I  should  not  like  to  accuse  him,  for  I  would  not 


72  ORION,  THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

reveal  the  source  of  my  information;  but  Mr.  Tiverton  can 
perhaps  learn  something  for  himself  now  that  he  has  the  cue, 
and  then  the  accusation  will  be  easy.  But  I  thank,  you  my 
good  friend,  for  this — I  do,  from  my  very  heart." 

Having  heard  this  Mrs.  Lindell  went  below,  and  answered 
the  summons  at  the  door.  Mr.  Thornton  wished  to  know 
if  he  could  see  Miss  Durand. 

"  Not  now,"  returned  the  hostess.  "  She  is  not  able  to 
see  you." 

"  And  when  will  she  be  able  ?  "  asked  the  applicant. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you,  sir." 

"  No — I  suppose  not,"  said  Thornton,  with  some  show  of 
vexation.  "  The  physician  just  told  me  that  the  lady's  par- 
ticular friends  might  see  her,  if  she  wished  it.  Now  will 
you  just  have  the  kindness  to  inform  her  that  Mr.  Thornton 
is  here,  and  wishes  to  see  her." 

Mrs.  Lindell  hesitated  for  a  moment,  but  a  fortunate 
remembrance  came  to  her  assistance. 

"  Miss  Durand  has  been  placed  under  my  care  by  Mr. 
Tiverton,"  she  said,  "  and  from  him  I  received  the  express 
order  that  no  one  save  the  doctor  should  be  admitted 
without  his  direct  consent.  So  you  see,  sir,  that  you  can  not 
be  admitted." 

The  fellow  pleaded  awhile,  but  the  hostess  was  inexorable, 
and  he  finally  went  away,  but  not  until  he  had  threatened 
to  "  bring  Mr.  Paul  Tiverton  to  his  senses." 


CHAPTER  X. 

RUIN  !     A    THRILLING   EPISODE. 

IT  was  nearly  dark,  the  sun  having  set,  and  the  more 
brilliant  stars  being  already  visible  in  the  heavens. 
Orion  Lindell  had  done  his  day's  work,  and  was  preparing 
to  close  up  the  shop,  when  some  one  entered.  He  could 
see  that  it  was  a  tall  figure,  and  upon  nearer  view  found  it 
to  be  Mr.  Tiverton.  He  extended  his  hand,  and  bade 
the  merchant  a  "good  evening,"  which  was  cordially 
returned, 


RUIN !    A    THRILLING  EPISODE.  73 

"  I  have  come,"  said  Tiverton,  "  to  keep  the  appoint- 
ment we  made  touching  the  gambling  houses.  Are  you  at 
liberty  this  evening  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir/'  the  youth  returned,  "  If  you  only  wait  while 
I  write  a  line  to  my  mother,  informing  her  of  the  cause  of 
my  absence,  I  will  be  with  you  afterwards." 

Orion  went  into  the  office,  where  he  wrote  a  simple  note, 
and  having  superscribed  it,  he  hastened  to  one  of  the  stores 
overhead,  where  there  was  a  clerk  who  lived  near  his  own 
dwelling.  The  latter  promised  to  deliver  the  letter  to  Mrs. 
Lindell,  and  then  Orion  hastened  back.  Ere  long  he  was 
ready  to  set  out,  and  having  locked  the  doors,  and  de- 
posited the  keys  in  the  vault  of  one  of  the  stores,  he  went 
away  with  the  merchant.  Mr.  Tiverton  proposed  first  that 
they  should  go  and  have  some  supper,  which  proposition 
suited  our  hero  very  well  ;  so  they  proceeded  to  one  of  the 
neighboring  refectories  where  Tiverton  ordered  supper  for 
two,  and  when  this  was  eaten,  and  the  latter  had  settled 
the  bill,  they  went  to  Chatham  Street,  and  were  not  long  in 
finding  a  place  where  masquerade  dresses  and  fixtures  of 
all  kinds  were  to  be  procured.  It  was  kept  by  an  old  Jew, 
who  became  very  obsequious  when  he  detected  the  tone 
and  bearing  of  the  wealthy  merchant. 

"  I've  got  everything,  shentlemens,"  he  said,  with  a  quaint 
smirk  of  his  dried-up  face.  "  Dare  ish  te  poor  dress,  an' 
te  rich  dress, — te  savage  dress,  an'  te  simple  dress — te 
dress  mit  de  pig  viskers  dat  covers  te  whole  face — an',  if 
you  pleash,  te  dress  of  te  females.  Anything  you  pleash, 
shentlemens." 

"  Let  us  go  into  some  private  place,"  said  Orion,  "  and 
there  we'll  make  a  selection." 

"  Yash — Dish  vay,"  returned  the  Jew,  leading  his  cus- 
tomers along  a  narrow  aisle,  upon  either  side  of  which  was 
piled  up  second-hand  and  shop-worn  clothing. 

Finally  they  came  to  a  door,  in  the  centre  of  which  was 
a  glass  panel,  with  a  dingy  yellow  curtain  on  the  inside, 
and  upon  passing  this  they  found  themselves  in  a  small 
room  within  which  were  all  the  conveniences  for  washing 
and  dressing,  though  cleanliness  was  not  one  of  its  charac- 
teristics. All  around  against  the  walls  were  shelves,  divided 
by  vertical  partitions  into  square  boxes,  within  which  were 
suits  of  all  sorts,  shades,  qualities,  and  descriptions. 


74  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

"  Now,  shentlemans,  vot  shall  I  show  you  ?  Shoost  say 
vot  you  likes  an'  you  can  have  it." 

Mr.  Tiverton  selected  a  garb  such  as  is  usually  worn  by 
sporting  gentlemen  ;  a  pair  of  wide-bottomed  drab  pants  ; 
a  blue  cutaway  coat,  with  gilt  buttons  ;  a  slouched  hat, 
and  black  wig  and  beard.  When  he  was  dressed  he  looked 
into  the  mirror,  and  hardly  knew  himself.  Just  as  Orion 
commenced  to  dress  the  Jew  was  called  away  by  one  of  his 
boys,  and  the  two  were  left  alone,  old  Shylock  having  evi- 
dently deemed  them  trustworthy.  - 

The  youth  had  selected  a  dress  very  much  like  his  com- 
panion's, save  that  he  chose  a  wig  and  beard  of  a  reddish 
hue,  and  a  coat  of  faded  mulberry.  Orion  had  just  put  on 
the  jaunty  hat,  and  given  the  last  touch  to  his  luxurious 
beard,  when  his  ear  caught  the  sound  of  a  familiar  voice 
close  at  hand  somewhere.  He  listened,  and  soon  dis- 
covered that  the  voice  came  from  beyond  the  middle  parti- 
tion, which  was  of  thin  boards. 

" sh  !  "  he  uttered  ;  and  then  moving  close  to  Tiv- 
erton he  said,  in  a  low  whisper,  "  Jasper  Thornton  is  in  the 
next  room.  Do  you  not  hear  his  voice  ?" 

"  Aye,"  returned  the  merchant.  "  I  thought  'twas  his 
voice.  There  must  be  another  room  beyond  here.  Ah — 
hark  ! — He  is  after  a  disguise,  too.  Can  we  not  get  a  peep 
at  him  ? " 

4<  Let's  see,"  said  Orion  ;  and  'thus  speaking  he  moved 
noiselessly  to  the  partition  and  began  to  search  for  some 
chink  through  which  he  could  get  a  view  of  what  was  tran- 
spiring in  the  adjoining  apartment.  He  searched  some 
time  in  vain,  and  was  about  to  give  it  up  as  a  bad  job,  when 
he  noticed  a  glimmering  of  light  within  one  of  the  afore- 
mentioned boxes,  and  upon  carefully  removing  the  clothing 
that  was  in  it,  he  found  a  knot-hole  in  one  of  the  boards 
nearly  an  inch  in  diameter.  He  quickly  moved  a  chair  up 
to  the  place,  and  having  got  upon  it,  he  could  reach  into 
the  compartment  and  place  his  eye  to  the  hole.  He  saw 
Jasper  Thornton  plainly,  in  the  act  of  putting  on  a  vest. 
Had  he  been  in  the  very  room  he  could  not  have  seen  all 
he  wished,  to  better  advantage.  This  other  apartment  was 
of  the  same  size  with  the  one  our  two  friends  occupied, 
and  in  other  respects  the  same,  save  that  the  shelves  were 
not  divided  off  by  partitions.  The  youth  stood  there  until 


RUIN!    A    THRILLING  EPISODE.  75 

the  villain  had  completed  his  toilet,  which  occupied  some 
twenty  minutes,  and  then  he  got  down. 

"  As  I  live,  Mr.  Tiverton,"  he  whispered,  "  it  is  most  for- 
tunate that  we  discovered  the  fellow,  for  we  should  never 
have  known  him  in  the  disguise  he  has  assumed.  It  is  is 
most  perfect.  Just  you  get  up  and  see  if  you  would  know 
him." 

So  the  merchant  got  up  into  the  chair,  and  placed  his 
eye  to  the  hole.  He  saw  Thorton,  and  he  recognized  him 
plainly,  though  he  admitted  that  he  should  not  have  mis- 
trusted his  presence  in  that  garb  had  he  not  possessed  the 
clue.  Just  as  Mr.  Tiverton  came  down  they  heard  the  Jew 
coming,  and  Orion  had  time  to  remove  the  chair  and  replace 
the  clothing  before  he  entered.  They  saw  that  their  own 
clothes  were  safe,  and  then,  having  placed  in  the  Jew's 
hands  the  usual  amount,  they  went  out.  Mr.  Thornton 
was  just  leaving  the  store,  and  they  followed  him  at  once. 

No  one  would  have  detected  "  Jasper  Thornton,  M.D.," 
in  the  garb  he  now  wore.  He  had  assumed  the  dress  of  a 
drover.  His  pants  were  of 'striped  stuff — blue  and  white — 
and  came  down  over  a  pair  of  thick,  muddy,  cowhide 
boots  ;  his  vest  of  brown  cloth,  square-cut,  and  buttoned 
up  to  the  throat  ;  the  neckerchief  of  'checked  gingham, 
and  the  dickey  of  coarse  shirting,  small  and  dirty,  and 
close  about  the  neck.  The  hat  was  old,  low-crowned,  and 
broad-rimmed,  while  the  sandy  beard  hung  negligently 
from  his  face,  and  the  long  yellow  hair  ditto.  He  had 
taken  the  precaution  to  brown  his  hands  and  face  with 
some  dirty  pigment,  and  his  gait  and  movements  were  in 
keeping  with  his  general  appearance.  It  was  truly  fortu- 
nate that  the  two  adventurers  had  thus  fallen  in  with  him, 
for  had  they  not  done  so  their  evening's  labor  would  have 
been  fruitless. 

The  disguised  gambler  took  his  way  down  the  street,  and 
when  he  stopped  it  was  at  one  of  the  hotels  near  the  end 
of  Park  Row.  He  went  into  the  bar-room,  and  the  two 
adventurers  followed  him.  He  was  soon  joined  by  a  friend, 
and  after  conversing  awhile  his  friend  conducted  him  to 
where  sat  a  man  who  seemed  to  be  a  real  drover  ;  and  such, 
in  fact,  he  was.  He  had  come  from  the  western  part  of 
the  State  with  a  very  large  drove  of  cattle,  and  having  sold 
all  out  was  ready  to  return  home.  Orion  was  near  enough 


7<5  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEA  TER. 

to  hear  most  that  was  said,  and  he  heard  Thornton  intro- 
duced as  a  cattle  drover  from  Orange  County.  The  real 
drover,  whose  name  our  hero  learned  from  the  register  was 
Barnes,  seemed  much  pleased  at  the  introduction,  and  it 
was  easily  seen  that  Thornton  was  not  long  in  captivating 
him. 

"  I  am  an  old  hand  at  the  business,"  said  the  villain, 
taking  a  seat  by  the  drover's  side.  "  I  have  driven  cattle 
into  the  city  goin'  on  now  nigh  twenty  year.  So,  ye  see 
I've  larned  the  ways  of  the  town  pretty  well.  I  s'pose  you 
ain't  very  well  acquainted  around  ? " 

"  No,"  said  Barnes,  "  I  never  happened  to  have  a  chance 
to  look  around  much." 

"  That's  the  trouble,"  resumed  Thornton,  who  had  been 
introduced  as  Mr.  Comeit.  "  A  man  who  only  comes  here 
once  in  a  while,  and  has  his  hands  full  of  business,  can't 
find  time  to  look  about  him.  In  the  evening  he  daren't  go 
out  for  fear  of  getting  lost." 

"  That's  so,"  returned  Barnes.  "  I've  never  seen  but  a 
mighty  little  part  of  the  city." 

"  Well,"  returned  Come-//,  as  though  the  idea  had  just 
struck  him,  "  what's  the  use  of  stayin'  here  ?  Let's  take  a 
stroll.  What  say  you  ?  " 

"I'm  in  for  it,"  said  Mr.  Mat.  Mayburn,  who  had  been 
deputized  by  Thornton  to  hook  the  countryman,  and  who 
had  had  him  in  tow,  ever  since  he  came  into  the  city. 

"  And  so  am  I,"  chimed  the  unsuspecting  drover. 

"  Then  let's  go.  By  the  way,  I'm  kind  o'  thirsty — 
though  perhaps  our  friend  don't  indulge." 

"  Oh — yes,"  cried  Barnes,  who  was  not  a  man  to  lag 
behind.  "  I  take  a  drop  once  in  a  while.  Come — what'll 
you  take  ? " 

"  I'll  have  a  little  brandy,"  said  Thornton. 

"  So'll  I,"  added  Mayburn. 

"  Then  brandy  it  is,  for  three,"  cried  Barnes,  thumping 
on  the  counter. 

Thornton  poured  out  a  very  stiff  glass — filling  his  tumbler 
nearly  full — but  holding  his  hand  over  it  so  as  to  partially 
conceal  the  quantity.  Barnes  poured  out  a  very  light  glass, 
for  he  was  not  much  in  the  habit  of  drinking,  and  then 
filled  the  tumbler  nearly  full  with  water,  and  sweetened  it. 
Thorton  drew  the  drover's  attention  to  a  picture  on  the 


RUIN !    A    THRILLING  EPISODE.  77 

the  wall  back  of  them,  and  while  the  latter's  eyes  were  thus 
turned  he  changed  glasses.  The  brandy  was  pale,  so  the 
color  would  not  tell  the  deception. 

"My  Jemima!  Oh  —  Jerusa/<?w  /  "  gasped  Barnes, 
having  taken  down  about  half  the  contents  of  the  tumbler 
at  the  first  gulp. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  " 

"  How  strong  !     Ugh  !  " 

"  Strong  ?  "  repeated  Thornton,  "  Why,  that's  the  beauty 
of  this  liquor.  None  of  yer  'toxicatin'  qualities  about  it, 
though.  Don't  waste  such  glorious  stuff." 

Barnes  drank  the  liquor  down,  and  shortly  afterwards  the 
trio  proceeded  out  of  doors,  our  two  adventurers  following 
close  upon  their  heels.  The  poor  drover  began  to  feel  the 
inordinate  horn  he  had  taken,  for  his  tongue  soon  became 
loose,  and  he  tried  to  crack  native  jokes. 

They  crossed  the  Park  into  Broadway,  and  then  kept  on 
up  that  thoroughfare.  Ere  long  Thornton  proposed  that 
they  should  go  in  and  take  a  "  smile."  Barnes  was  too 
happy  to  object  ;  but  instead  of  going  into  any  of  the 
saloons  on  Broadway,  they  turned  down  Anthony  Street, 
and  when  they  stopped  it  was  before  a  low,  dingy  looking 
groggery,  which  did  not  possess  a  very  inviting  appear- 
ance. 

"  'Taint  such  a  nice  place,"  said  Thornton,  turning  to  the 
drover,  "  but  they've  got  a  little  of  the  purest  old  wine  here 
that  is  to  be  found  in  the  city.  It  is  high,  but  it's  worth 
the  money.  Come." 

Barnes  suspected  nothing,  and  having  entered  the  place 
Thornton  called  for  more  liquor. 

"  Look  'e,  Mike,"  he  said  with  a  sly  wink,  '•  we  want 
some  of  that  best  old  wine  of  yours.  Got  any  left  1 " 

"Jest  one  bottle,"  replied  the  keeper,  a  short,  ill-dressed, 
dirty  looking  fellow. 

"  Then  let's  have  it." 

Mike  went  into  a  back  room,  and  when  he  returned  he 
bore  a  common  wine-bottle  in  his  hand,  which  he  placed 
upon  the  counter.  The  three  glasses  were  turned  out,  and 
healths  proposed  all  around.  Barnes  drank  his  potion  off, 
while  the  other  two  adroitly  poured  theirs  upon  the  floor. 

"  That's  kind  o'  good,"  said  the  drover,  smacking  his 
Jips.  "  It's  got  a  real  pucker  to  it,  hasn't  it  1 " 


78  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

"  Glorious — glorious,"  returned  Thornton,  smacking  his 
lips  too.  And  then,  having  thrown  down  three  "  quarters," 
which  was  the  price  asked  by  Mr.  Mike  for  his  "  soothing 
compound,"  he  led  the  way  once  more  to  the  street. 

They  returned  to  Broadway,  and  ere  long  stopped  again. 

"  Say,"  uttered  Thornton,  "  up  here  there's  a  splendid 
hall  where  we  can  take  a  game  of  cards.  What  say  you  ?  " 

"  That's  the  talk,"  cried  Barnes,  whose  head  had  begun 
to  get  along  without  the  assistance  of  the  brain,  the  subtle 
drug  which  he  had  imbibed  with  his  last  glass  of  diluted 
alcohol  having  begun  to  do  its  work.  "  You're  a  glorious 
fellow,  ole  Comeit — a  ^-rious  fellow,  I  say — I'd  like  to 
see  somebody  say  you  wasn't  a  glo-r/'-ous  fellow — a  gUglo- 
rious  (hie)  fellah — I  say  !  " 

So  up-stairs  they  went — up  one  flight  they  found  a  bil- 
liard room.  Barnes  wanted  to  go  in  and  learn  to  play,  but 
his  companions  urged  him  to  keep  on  and  find  a  better 
place.  Up  one  flight  more  they  found  a  bar-room,  sump- 
tuously  fu'rnished,  which  the  drover  pronounced  the  "  most 
beautifulest,  unmercifulest,  handsomest  place  "  he  was  ever 
in.  There  were  two  billiard-tables  in  this  apartment,  but 
they  were  only  covers — the  important  purposes  of  this  floor 
were  not  visible  from  here. 

Barnes  was  determined  to  have  one  more  drink.  He 
possessed  one  of  those  peculiar  idiosyncrasies  which  call 
for  more,  and  more,  when  the  system  is  once  under  the  in- 
fluence of  liquor,  until  the  very  power  of  drinking  is  gone. 
The  first  glass  might  pass  very  well,  if  moderate  in  quantity, 
but  the  second  glass,  with  drinking  companions,  was  sure 
drunkenness.  In  the  present  case,  however,  in  addition  to 
the  powerful  drink  at  the  hotel,  the  poor  man  had  taken  a 
drug — or  a  preparation  of  various  drugs,  which  did  the 
reason-destroying  work  of  a  dozen  glasses  of  brandy. 
Thornton  concluded  to  allow  him  to  drink  once  more,  and 
after  this  he  led  him  away  from  the  bar.  Upon  one  side  of 
this  bar  was  a  window  frame  set  with  mirror-plates.  There 
were  four  of  them  upon  each  side — but  this  particular  one 
opened  like  a  door,  and  gave  entrance  to  a  room 
beyond,  where  a  number  of  men  were  busy  about  a  faro- 
bank. 

Thornton  contrived  to  draw  the  drover's  attention  from 
the  bank,  and  finally  got  him  down  to  a  card -table,  The 


RUIN!    A    THRILLING  EPISODE.  79 

gamester  knew  every  man  in  that  room,  but  not  one  of  them 
knew  him  in  his  present  disguise.  The  cards  were  pro- 
duced, and  Barnes  was  asked  if  he  knew  how  to  play  poker. 
He  had  seen  it  played,  and  had  played  one  or  two  games 
himself  for  pennies. 

Jasper  Thornton  had  not  been  silent  all  this  while.  Far 
from  it.  He  had  kept  his  tongue  running  to  good  purpose. 
He  had  flattered  the  drover  most  carefully — talked  about 
horses,  farms,  cattle  and  crops  ;  denounced  the  evils  of 
city  life  ;  cried  out  against  gambling,  drinking,  and  such 
like  vices  ;  and  in  a  most  captivating  manner  had  he  got 
hold  of  the  poor  fellow's  peculiarities  and  then  pandered  to 
them. 

"  But  when  three  old  friends  meet  why  not  have  a  good 
time  ?  We  may  never  see  each  other  again/' — And  here 
came  in  a  passage  of  affection. — "  Now  we'll  just  have  a 
social  game — just  to  pass  away  the  time — and  then  we'll  go 
to  the  theater.  What  say  you  ?  " 

This  suited  Barnes,  and  he  went  in  for  it  at  once.  The 
cards  were  dealt,  and  the  playing  commenced.  Thornton 
saw  two  jockeyish-looking  fellows  standing  by  one  of  the 
other  tables  gazing  at  him,  but  he  neither  knew  nor  cared  for 
them.  The  game  commenced  with  twenty-five  cents  ante, 
with  the  privilege  of  betting  as  much  as  they  pleased. 
Barnes  won  small  sums,  and  swore  he  must  have  "  some- 
thing to  drink."  He  had  it,  and  the  play  went  on.  By  and 
by  the  drover  lost  ten  dollars.  He  was  determined  to 
make  that  up. 

Thornton  dealt,  and  when  he  had  thrown  out  the  three 
hands  the  tray  of  hearts  was  upon  the  bottom.  Having 
adroitly  placed  his  thumb  and  middle  finger  upon  the  two 
outer  spots  he  turned  the  pack  up  and  revealed  what  ap- 
peared to  be  the  ace.  Then  he  laid  the  pack  down,  and  the 
betting  commenced.  Barnes  looked  at  his  hand  and  he 
held/<?&r  kings.  He  pondered  upon  it,  and  finally  worked 
the  idea  through  his  mind  that  he  had  the  best  hand.  Only 
four  aces  could  beat  his  hand,  and  one  of  those  aces  was  un- 
der the  pack.  He  had  seen  it  there  as  the  dealer  care- 
lessly, as  he  supposed,  turned  it  up.  He  looked  at  his  four 
kings,  and  then  he  gazed  at  the  pack.  One  ace  was  there. 
He  was  safe  now.  Now  he  would  "go  in  and  win." 

The  betting  went  on.     Thornton  "  covered  "  the  amount 


8o  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEA  TER. 

on  the  table  and  went  a  hundred  dollars  better.  Barnes 
"  saw  "  that,  and  went  another  hundred.  By  and  by  there 
were  a  thousand  dollars  on  the  board,  and  Mayburn  had 
thrown  up  his  hand.  The  two  men  by  the  other  table  drew 
nearer.  The  drover  had  emptied  his  wallet,  having  already 
put  down  four  hundred  dollars.  He  now  unbuttoned  his 
vest,  and  from  his  bosom  he  drew  a  large,  well-filled  pocket- 
book.  He  felt  sure  it  was  safe  there,  so  he  chose  to 
carry  it  with  him.  He  opened  it.  and  Thornton's  eyes 
gleamed  with  a  demon  fire  as  he  saw  the  thick  package  of 
bank-notes  each  one  bearing  the  magic  "  C  "  on  one  end, 
and  "  100  "  on  the  other.  Mayburn  passed  a  wad  of  similar 
notes  under  the  table  to  his  confederate.  Thornton  bet 
five  hundred  dollars  next.  Barnes  "  saw  "  it  and  went  five 
hundred  better  !  Thornton  pretended  to  be  fearful — he 
looked  very  doubtful — he  intimated  that  he  feared  his 
opponent  had  "  four  high  ones.  "  Yet  he  wasn't  going  to 
be  "  bluffed."  He  saw  the  five  hundred,  and  went  five 
hundred  more.  Barnes  was  a  little  anxious  now  in  spite  of 
his  intoxication.  He  looked  at  his  hand  once  more — saw 
those  four  kings — and  then  cast  his  eye  upon  the  pack 
where  he  knew  the  ace  of  hearts  was.  Then  he  covered  the 
last  stake,  and — his  hand  trembled  a  little — put  down  a 
thousand  !  Jasper  Thornton  dared  to  trust  him  no  further, 
for  he  had  only  about  twelve  hundred  left — he  had  bor- 
rowed it  for  the  occasion — and  he  knew  that  his  opponent 
might  go  next  time  more  than  he  could  cover.  So  he  put 
down  the  one  thousand,  and  then  "  called  "  his  antagonist's 
hand. 

"  Let's  see  yours  first,  "  said  Barnes. 

"  I  called,  "  hurriedly  returned  Thornton.  "  Show  your 
hand!" 

The  drover  spread  his  cards  out  upon  the  table — four  kings 
and  a  jack.  Jasper  Thornton  then  placed  his  by  the  side 
of  them — -four  aces  !  A  deep  groan  escaped  from  Barnes's 
lips  ;  but  in  a  moment  more  he  grasped  the  pack  and 
turned  it  up  !  He  saw  the  tray  !  He  had  lost  twenty-seven 
hundred  dollars  ! 

"  Better  luck  next  time  !  "  cried  Thornton,  as  he  raked 
down  the  money. 

"  You'll  win  it  back,"  said  Mayburn. 

"  Give  me  some  brandy  !  "  uttered  the  poor  man. 


RUIN  I    A    THRILLING  EPISODE.  8 1 

Barnes  was  determined  to  win  his  money  back  !  Ah  \ 
that  most  dangerous  thought  of  the  gaming-table  !  "  Win- 
ning back  !  "  A  poor  youth  loses  a  few  dollars,  and  he  must 
win  it  back  !  He  does  not  see  that  he  must  go  through  the 
same  ordeal  by  which  he  made  the  loss.  We  venture  the 
assertion  that  two-thirds  of  all  those  who  have  been  ruined 
at  the  gaming-table  have  suffered  from  trying  to  win  back 
what  they  had  lost. 

"  Oh  !  "  murmurs  the  young  clerk,  "  only  just  let  me  win 
back  what  I've  lost,  and  I'll  gamble  no  more  !  "  And  so 
cry  both  young  and  old — those  who  gamble  with  their  own 
estate,  and  those  who  stake  the  gold  they  have  taken  from 
their  employers  ! — O  young  man,  beware  of  that  one  pit- 
fall. If  you  must  try  your  luck — if  you  must  be  a  fool 
once — let  your  first  loss  satisfy  you.  Let  that  be  to  you  a 
sure  example  of  what  must  follow  if  you  try  again.  Never 
— never  think  for  one  moment  of  trying  to  win  back  your 
first  loss  ! 

But  poor  Barnes  went  into  the  work.  The  clock  struck 
one,  and  he  was  a  ruined  man  !  He  had  lost  twenty-six 
thousand  dollars ! — the  proceeds  of  nearly  five  hundred 
head  of  cattle  !  He  was  drunk — and  yet  he  was  sober ! 
His  frame  was  weak  from  much  drink,  but  his  mind  was 
awakened  by  the  terrible  shock.  As  each  thousand  of  his 
treasure  had  been  won  from  him,  he  had  taken  "just0«<? 
more "  hand  to  gain  it  back.  Brandy  had  been  freely 
offered  him  after  he  was  secured,  and  his  final  ruin  was  but 
the  inevitable  result. 

Paul  Tiverton  drew  the  young  gold-beater  away,  and  a 
deep  groan  escaped  his  lips  as  he  gained  the  street. 

"  Isn't  it  terrible  ? "  he  uttered. 

"  It  is,  "  Orion  returned.    "  But  hold.    Here  they  come." 

As  he  spoke  the  three  men  came  out  upon  the  side- 
walk, and  turned  towards  the  Park.  Our  two  adventurers 
were  bound  to  follow  them  through  now.  The  trio  kept 
on  until  they  came  to  the  hotel  where  they  had  first  met, 
and  upon  the  steps  Mr.  Jasper  Thornton  took  his  leave. 

"  Keep  up  a  good  heart,  "  he  said,  as  he  shook  the 
poor  drover  by  the  hand.  "  I  shall  see  you  in  the  morning. 
You  needn't  think  I'm  going  to  keep  all  your  money;  but 
it'll  be  safer  in  my  hands  to-night.  I'll  be  on  hand  in 
the  morning.  Good-night." 


82  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEA  TER. 

Thus  speaking  Thornton  turned  away,  and  Mayburn 
led  Barnes  into  the  hotel.  But  ere  long  the  second  man 
came  out  again,  and  rejoined  his  accomplice,  and  then  they 
congratulated  each  other  upon  the  splendid  haul  they  had 
made. 

"  I  shall  stop  at  the  Astor  to-night,  "  Orion  heard  Thorn- 
ton say,  "  and  there  you'll  find  me  in  the  morning.  You'd 
better  go  up  to  the  old  place,  and  tell  Mag  that  I'm  out 
of  town." 

After  this  our  two  friends  followed  Thornton  to  the 
Jew's,  and  waited  near  at  hand  until  he  came  out  again. 
Ere  long  he  came,  in  propria  persona,  once  more  looking 
like  Jasper  Thornton. 

"  Ah  !  "  uttered  Tivertori,  as  the  villain  went  away,  "that 
poor  drover  might  meet  him  an  hundred  times  to-morrow, 
— he  might  walk  with  him,  and  eat  with  him,  and  he  would 
never  know  that  he  had  met  him  before." 

"  True, "  returned  Orion,  with  a  fluttering  in  his  tone. 
"But  he  shall  know  him  again!  I  tell  you,  sir,  Jasper 
Thornton  shall  restore  every  dollar  he  has  taken  from  that 
poor  man  !  He  shall,  sir  ! — as  sure  as  God  lives  he  shall  !  " 

The  merchant  caught  his  companion's  hand  and  gazed 
into  his  face. 

"  Will  you  do  it  ? "  he  asked  eagerly. 

"  I  will,  sir!" 

"  Then  God  bless  you.  You  may  use  my  name  if  you 
see  fit." 

"  I  shall  not  if  I  can  help  it.  I  think  I  can  do  it  with- 
out— though  at  a  last  resort  I  should  like  to  have  the 
right." 

"  You  have  it,  my  noble  young  friend,  "  cried  the  mer- 
chant. "  And  be  sure  you  call  upon  me  and  let  me  know 
the  result. " 

Orion  promised,  and  then  they  entered  the  Jew's  place,  he 
having  agreed  to  remain  up  until  they  returned.  They 
were  soon  back  in  their  own  garbs,  and  having  paid 
old  Shylock  well  for  the  use  they  had  made  of  his  clothing 
they  departed  ;  and  ere  they  separated  the  merchant  made 
his  companion  once  more  promise  to  inform  him  of  the 
result  of  his  noble  mission  as  soon  as  possible. 


RESTITUTION.  83 


CHAPTER  XI. 

RESTITUTION. 

WHEN  Orion  reached  his  home  he  found  his  mother  up, 
and  somewhat  uneasy  ;  but  when  he  told  where  he  had 
been,  and  who  had  been  with  him,  together  with  some- 
thing of  what  he  had  seen,  she  forgot  her  fears  in  the  inter- 
est she  felt  in  the  strange  adventure.  The  youth  was 
pleased  to  learn  that  Ellen  Durand  was  comfortable,  and 
having  been  assured  that  there  was  nothing  he  could  do  to 
be  of  use  about  the  house,  he  retired.  The  clock  struck 
three  just  as  he  was  getting  into  bed. 

When  he  awoke  the  sun  was  well  up,  but  it  was  not  late. 
He  arose  and  ate  a  hearty  breakfast,  and  then  took  a  stage 
for  down-town.  He  went  into  the  shop  and  gave  Mr.  Gar- 
vey  a  full  account  of  the  transactions  of  the  previous  eve- 
ning, and  of  course  received  ready  permission  to  go  and 
carry  out  the  plan  he  had  concocted.  His  first  movement 
was  to  the  hotel  where  he  had  left  Mr.  Barnes.  When  he 
entered  the  bar-room  he  looked  around,  but  not  finding 
him  there  he  requested  the  clerk  to  show  him  up  to  his 
room,  at  the  same  time  informing  that  individual  that  he 
had  very  important  business  with  Mr.  Barnes. 

The  clerk  looked  at  the  register,  and  having  found  the 
number  of  the  room  where  the  man  lodged  he  called  to  an 
attendant  and  bade  him  show  the  visitor  up.  Our  hero  fol- 
lowed the  guide  up  to  the  third  floor,  and  was  at  length 
stopped  before  a  door  which  was  locked. 

"  Never  mind,  "  said  Orion,  as  the  servant  was  upon  the 
point  of  knocking,  "  I  will  arouse  him.  You  may  leave 
me." 

The  man  withdrew,  and  as  soon  as  he  was  gone  the 
youth  knocked  at  the  door. 

"Who's  there  ?"  said  a  hoarse,  faint  voice  from  within. 

"  A  friend,  "  returned  Orion.     "  Let  me  in  at  once." 

The  door  was  soon  unlocked,  and  the  youth  entered. 
Barnes  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  all  dressed,  and 
the  appearance  of  his  clothes  showed  conclusively  that  they 
had  not  been  removed.  He  was  pale  and  ghastly  in  his 
look,  and  never,  in  all  his  life,  had  Orion  before  seen  such 


84  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

a  picture  of  deep  and  utter  despair.  He  gazed  up  into  his 
visitor's  face  with  an  expression  of  fear,  but  even  the  pre- 
sence of  a  stranger  did  not  prevent  him  from  groaning 
heavily.  He  gazed  as  long  as  he  could,  and  then  sank 
down  upon  the  bedside  and  pressed  his  hand  upon  his 
aching  brow. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  he  gasped,  in  painful  whisper. 

"  I  trust  I  may  prove  myself  a  friend, "  returned  our 
hero,  taking  a  seat  near  the  foot  of  the  bed. 

"  A  friend  ? "  repeated  the  poor  sufferer.  "  Oh,  my  soul ! 
There  are  no  friends  in  this  infernal  Babel !  " 

"  Ah — you  may  find  one  before  you  leave  it." 

"  And  if  I  do — what  then  ? "  the  wretched  man  cried, 
starting  up  from  his  bowed  position.  "  No  man  can  make 
me  whole.  But  say — what  are  you — a — a — what  did  you 
come  here  for  ? " 

"  I  came  to  warn  you  against  getting  into  such  company 
again  as  you  picked  up  last  night.  " 

"  Your  services  are  not  wanted,  sir.  I  have  received  a 
lesson  worth  more  than  any  you  can  give  me.  Oh  !  my 
God  !  what  a  fool  I  have  been  !  All  gone  ! — the  toil  of 
years  ! — home — honor — credit — everything  ! — Oh,  oh  !  " 

"  Then  all  you  lost  last  night  was  not  your  own  ? " 

The  drover  started  and  gazed  hard  into  his  visitor's  face 
and  a  tremor,  wild  and  fearful,  shook  his  frame. 

"  You — you — know  what  I  lost  ? " 

'  Very  near." 

'  How  ? — Oh,  how  ?  Have  you  seen  either  of  those  men  ? " 

*  Either  of  which  men  ?  " 

*  Mayburn  or  Comeit." 

'  Do  you  think  you  would  recognize  them  if  you  should 
meet  them  again  ? " 

"  Should  I  ?  Ah — you  may  bet  your  life  on  that !  I 
never  could  forget  those  two  faces." 

"  And  yet,  sir,  "  said  Orion,  "  were  they  both  to  come  in 
here  at  this  moment  you  would  not  mistrust  them.  You 
neither  know  their  names  nor  their  faces.  Did  you  ever 
see  me  before  ? " 

"  Not  that  I  know  of,  "  returned  Barnes,  gazing  ear- 
nestly into  the  youth's  face. 

"  And  yet  I  sat  within  ten  feet  of  you  for  four  hours  last 
night ! " 


RESTITUTION.  85 

"  You?"  -uttered  the  drover,  incredulously.  "Impos- 
sible ! " 

"  But  I  did,  sir.  My  companion  and  myself  sat  and  saw 
you  robbed  of  twenty-six  thousand  dollars  !  " 

Mr.  Barnes  leaped  to  his  feet  and  clasped  his  hands.  For 
a  moment  a  gleam  of  hope  shot  across  his  countenance, 
and  he  seemed  trying  to  express  his  feelings  ;  but  gradually 
the  emotion  passed  away,  and  with  a  deep  groan  he  uttered  : 

"  But  what's  the  use  ?  They've  got  my  money,  and  I 
shall  never  see  it  again  !  Then  they're  gamblers,  aren't 
they  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir — two  of  the  most  expert  in  the  city.  Mr.  May- 
burn  was  deputized  to  make  your  acquaintance  as  soon  as 
you  came  in  with  your  large  drove  of  cattle,  and  when  you 
had  your  money  all  safe  he  was  to  introduce  Comeit.  It 
was  planned  that  you  should  be  robbed  on  the  first  day  you 
entered  this  metropolis  !  " 

"  And  I  fell  into  the  trap  like  a  blind  mouse"!  " 

"  Aye — and  many  others  have  done  so  before  you.  Were 
you  to  make  the  attempt  to  recover  your  property  you 
could  do  no  more  than  a  child.  In  the  first  place  you  never 
could  find  the  men  who  robbed  you,  for  their  disguise  was 
complete.  And  again,  you  might  hunt  from  now  till  dooms- 
day and  not  find  the  place  to  which  they  took  you." 

"  That's  so,  "  said  Barnes  despondingly. 

"  And  now,  "  resumed  Orion,  with  more  force,  "  tell  me 
how  you  are  situated,  and  I  will  try  and  help  you." 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  mean,  how  the  loss  of  this  money  affects  you." 

"  Oh  !  it  ruins  me  !  It  takes  every  dollar  I  own, — my 
home — my  stock — my — my — everything  on  earth  !  besides 
leaving  me  in  debt  ten  thousand  dollars  to  my  friends. 
Oh  !  that  is  the  hardest  of  all.  Many  of  those  cattle  were 
entrusted  to  me  by  near  friends  who  had  the  fullest  confi- 
dence in  my  honor  !  But  sir,"  the  poor  drover  continued 
in  a  lower  tone,  and  with  a  sudden  calmness,  which  showed 
how  firmly  resolved  he  was, — "  I  don't  think  they  will  ever 
see  me  again  without  my  money.  If  I  lose  all  I  shall  give 
your  coroner  a  job  !  " 

This  was  spoken  not  in  a  whimsical  tone,  but  with  a  firm- 
ness of  moral  certainty. 

"  Mr.  Barnes,"  said  Orion,  after  a  moment's  pause,  "  I 


86  ORION;  THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

wish  to  spqak  a  few  words  of  explanation,  and  then  you 
shall  hear  all  I  have  come  to  tell.  I  am  not  a  frequenter 
of  such  places  as  you  were  in  last  night.  I  had  a  desire  to 
follow  the  man  who  robbed  you,  and  I  did  so.  My  pur- 
pose was  to  show  another  his  true  character,  that  he  might 
be  prevented  from  doing  a  robbery  worse,  in  many  re- 
spects, than  the  one  he  accomplished  last  night.  Thus  I 
became  an  involuntary  witness  to  your  downfall.  I  saw 
that  you  were  honest,  and  meant  well,  but  that  you  were 
not  safe  under  the  influence  of  liquor.  You  drank  a  tum- 
bler full  of  raw  rectified  spirits,  flavored  with  a  little 
brandy,  to  commence  with  last  evening.  Mr.  Comeit 
changed  glasses  with  you  when  he  called  your  attention  to 
the  picture.  Next  you  drank  a  subtle  concoction  of  ex- 
hilarating and  opiated  drugs  !  " 

Barnes  gazed  upon  the  speaker  with  astonishment,  and  a 
deep  groan,  accompanied  by  an  ejaculation  of  wonder, 
escaped  his  lips. 

"  And  now,"  said  Orion,  "  I  mean  to  help  you.  Will 
you  go  with  me  and  face  the  villain  who  robbed  you  ? " 

"  Will  I  ? "  uttered  the  drover,  starting  once  more  to  his 
feet.  "  Aye — that  I  will !  " 

"  Then  prepare  to  accompany  me  as  soon  as  possible.  I 
know  where  the  man  stopped  through  the  latter  part  of  the 
night,  but  he  may  get  away  if  we  are  not  spry." 

"  I  won't  be  long,"  cried  Barnes  with  energy. 

Orion  brushed  his  clothes  for  him,  while  he  washed  his 
face  and  head.  After  this  they  descended  to  the  bar-room, 
where  the  drover  asked  for  a  glass  of  hot  brandy  toddy. 
He  drank  this,  and  it  seemed  to  revive  him  a  little  ;  and 
then  he  turned  and  bade  his  friend  to  lead  the  way. 

As  they  crossed  the  Park,  Orion  stopped  at  the  City 
Hall,  where  he  found  two  officers  of  the  police  department 
with  whom  he  was  acquainted.  He  explained  to  them  the 
whole  affair,  and  got  him  to  go  with  them  to  the  Astor 
House.  They  readily  consented  to  do  so,  and  followed 
him  at  once.  When  they  reached  the  hotel  our  hero  went 
to  the  register  and  learned  the  number  of  the  room  where 
Thornton  stopped,  and  was  informed  that  the  occupant  of 
said  room  had  not  yet  come  down.  A  waiter  conducted  the 
party  to  the  corridor  whereon  the  villain's  apartment  was 
located,  at  the  end  of  which  the  two  police  officers  stopped, 


RESTITUTION.  87 

while  the  others  went  on.  Having  been  shown  the  num- 
ber, Orion  dismissed  the  waiter,  and  then  knocked  at  the 
door. 

"  Who's  there  ? "  asked  a  voice  from  within. 

"  Open  the  door,  old  boy.  I  want  to  whisper  in  your 
ear,"  returned  the  youth. 

"  But  who  are  you  ?" 

"  — sh  !     Don't  speak  names  here." 

There  was  a  rustling  of  papers — very  much  like  the 
sound  of  bank-notes,  and  shortly  afterwards  the  door  was 
opened.  Orion  stepped  in  at  once,  and  the  drover  imme- 
diately followed  him.  The  gamester  was  all  dressed  save 
putting  on  his  coat,  having  performed  his  ablutions,  and 
donned  his  cravat  and  vest.  He  started  back  aghast  when 
he  saw  the  drover,  and  for  a  moment  he  was  pale  as  death. 

"  Mr.  Barnes,"  said  Orion,  calmly  and  politely,  "  allow 
me  to  introduce  you  to  Doctor  Jasper  Thornton." 

The  poor  drover  gazed  upon  the  man  before  him  like  one 
in  a  dream.  He  could  not  realize  that  the  splendid-look- 
ing gentleman  was  the  same  one  who  had  been  with  him  on 
the  previous  night. 

Thornton  quickly  recognized  Orion  Lindell,  and  his  first 
impulse  was  to  show  his  anger  ;  but  he  soon  overcame  that, 
and  in  a  tone  of  cold  politeness  he  said: 

"  May  I  know  to  what  I  owe  the  honor  of  this  visit  ?  " 

"Certainly,  sir,"  returned  our  hero,  who  stood  with  his 
back  to  the  door.  "  My  friend  here,  Mr.  Barnes,  wished 
very  much  to  see  you,  and  I  offered  my  services  for  the 
introduction." 

"  And  may  I  ask  what  Mr.  Barnes  particularly  desires  ?  " 
the  fellow  uttered,  turning  upon  that  individual.  He  spoke 
very  coolly,  but  yet  there  was  a  perceptible  twitching  of  the 
nerves  about  the  lips. 

The  drover  seemed  at  a  loss  what  to  say.  He  tried  to  find 
the  least  indication  of  the  one  who  had  taken  his  money. 
He  did  not  succeed,  however.  The  face  he  had  seen  the 
night  before  had  been  brown  and  coarse,  and  half  covered 
with  shaggy  beard  ;  while  the  face  before  him  was  very  fair, 
and  the  beard  of  a  different  hue,  and  worn  very  differently, 
too.  In  fact  he  seemed  different  in  every  way. 

"  May  I  know  the  object  of  your  visit  ?  "  cried  Thornton, 
somewhat  impatiently. 


88  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

"  Were  you  with  me  last  night,  sir  ? "  Barnes  asked  hes- 
itatingly. 

"With  you,  sir?  "  uttered  the  villain,  with  well-assumed 
astonishment. 

"  Yes — a — wa'n't  you  with  me  up  in  that  gambling 
house  ?  "  persued  the  drover,  still  nervously. 

Thornton  cast  a  hurried  glance  at  our  hero,  and  then 
said,  in  a  tone  of  righteous  indignation  : 

"  I  hardly  know  how  to  look  upon  this  affair,  sir.  Are 
you  crazy,  or  have  you  been  imposed  upon  ?  With  you  ? 
in  a  gambling  house?  I  trust  you  will  not  repeat  the 
insult." 

Poor  Barnes  took  a  step  back,  and  seemed  confounded. 
He  gazed  first  upon  Thornton,  and  then  upon  his  companion. 
Orion  saw  his  confusion,  and  thought  it  about  time  to  help 
him  out.  He  simply  motioned  the  drover  to  keep  silent, 
and  then  turning  to  the  occupant  of  the  room,  he  said,  in 
a  tone  and  manner  which  admitted  of  but  little  doubt  : 

"  Jasper  Thornton,  I  will  answer  you  now.  /  brought 
this  man  here,  and  I  knew  what  I  was  about.  He  is  an 
honest,  simple  man  who  came  from  the  country  with  a  very 
large  drove  of  cattle.  When  he  entered  this  city  two  vil- 
lains fixed  their  gaze  upon  him,  and  resolved  to  rob  him 
if  they  could.  One  of  those  men  made  his  acquaintance  at 
once,  and  from  that  time  remained  by  his  side  and  got  well 
into  his  confidence.  The  intended  victim  sold  his  cattle, 
and  placed  the  money  in  his  pocket.  Last  night  the  two 
confederates  met  and  took  their  victim  to  a  gaming  house, 
where  they  robbed  him  of  twenty-six  thousand  dollars  !  " 

"  Well,  sir,"  whispered  Thornton,  struggling  hard  to 
appear  calm,  "  and  what  is  all  this  to  me  ? " 

'•  I  thought  you  might  be  willing  to  help  this  poor  man 
to  his  money  again,"  said  Orion. 

"  Me,  sir,"  gasped  the  villain.  "  Help  him  to  his  money  ? 
Ha,  ha, — you  are  facetious — very.  But,"  he  added,  gain- 
ing his  senses  again,  and  trying  to  appear  indignant,  "  you 
will  please  me  by  leaving  the  room.  If  you  have  imagined 
that  I  know  any  of  the  parties  who  have  had  a  hand  in 
wronging  this  man,  you  are  much  mistaken." 

"  Before  I  go,"  resumed  Orion,  calm  as  before,  "  let  me 
tell  you  more  of  the  curious  story.  Last  evening,  just  as 
night  had  fairly  set  in,  a  man  went  into  the  clothing  store 


RESTITUTION.  89 

of  the  old  Jew,  at  number  —  Chatham  street,  and  there 
exchanged  his  own  garb  for  that  of  a  drover.  In  place  of 
his  fashionable  garments  he  donned  those  which  mark  th<e 
man  of  toil  and  labor,  and  then  put  on  a  bushy  wig  and  a 
large  pair  of  false  whiskers  and  moustache.  In  this  garb 
he  left  the  Jew's  place  and  proceeded — it  interests  you, 
does  it  ? " 

"  I  am  listening,"  returned  Thornton,  pale  and  trembling, 
but  yet  trying  hard  to  hide  his  emotions. 

"  Well— this  man  turned  his  steps  towards  the  hotel 
where  Mr.  Barnes  stopped.  He  entered  the  bar-room,  and 
soon  met  his  friend,  who,  for  the  time,  had  assumed  the 
name  of  Matthew  Mayburn.  This  latter  individual  intro- 
duced him  to  Mr.  Barnes,  and  a  friendly  chat  was  the  result. 
Finally  it  was  proposed  that  the  two  should  go  out  and  see 
the  city.  The  new-comer,  who  gave  his  name  as  Comeit, 
intimated  that  he  would  like  to  drink,  and  Mr.  Barnes 
offered  to  treat  the  pair  of  them.  At  the  bar  this  Comeit 
poured  out  a  tumbler  full  of  brandy,  and  having  called  his 
victim's  attention  to  a  picture  which  hung  behind  them,  he 
surreptitiously  changed  glasses,  thus  giving  the  drover  the 
full  tumbler  of  clear  spirit  and  sugar.  After  this  they 
walked  out,  and  when  they  next  stopped  it  was  at  a  low  den 
in  Anthony  street,  where  the  keeper  furnished  three  glasses 
of  drugged  liquor,  one  of  which  was  drank  by  the  victim, 
while  the  other  two  were  thrown  upon  the  floor.  Their 
next  stopping-place  was  at  number  —  Broadway,  where 
Barnes  was  taken  up  into  a  gambling  hell.  Here  he  was 
plied  with  liquor,  and  robbed  in  a  most  outrageous  manner 
of  all  his  money,  the  full  amount  of  which  I  have  already 
mentioned.  The  two  gamblers  cheated  him  in  every  con- 
ceivable way.  They  had  marked  cards — they  stocked  them 
when  they  could,  and  at  times  they  would  change  cards 
beneath  the  table,  Mayburn  giving  to  Comeit  such  cards  as 
would  fill  his  hand,  and  taking  worthless  ones  in  exchange. 
When  the  poor  man  was  thoroughly  cleaned  out  they  carried 
him  home,  promising  to  call  upon  him  in  the  morning. 
Then  Mr.  Mayburn  was  directed  to  go  up  to  the  '  old  place  J 
and  tell  '  Mag '  that  his  companion  was  out  of  town — " 

"  Ha  !— has— " 

So  spoke  Jasper  Thornton,  as  the  narrative  reached  this 
point — and  he  was  very  pale  and  excited  as  he  did  so.  He 


90  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

evidently  thought  that  Mayburn  must  have  betrayed  him, 
and  hence  allowed  himself  to  utter  as  much  as  he  did.  But 
he  came  to  his  senses  in  a  moment,  and  then  added: 

"  But  go  on.  I  meant  to  ask  if  it  was  possible  that  such 
a —  But  never  mind." 

"  I  have  little  more  to  tell/'  resumed  Orion.  "  He  who 
called  himself  Comeit  returned  to  the  Jew's,  where  he  got 
into  his  own  garb  again,  and  then  came  to  this  hotel,  where 
he  took  a  room." 

Orion  stopped  a  few  moments  and  gazed  into  Thornton's 
face,  and  then  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  such  meaning  and  power 
that  even  Barnes  was  startled  by  it : 

"  Now,  Jasper  Thornton,  restore  to  this  man  all  the  money 
you  took  from  him  !  Give  it  back  to  him,  sir — every  dollar 
of  it !  " 

"  Miserable  fool !  "  gasped  the  villain,  "  do  you  think  you 
can  frighten  me  in  this  way  ?" 

"  I  have  no  wish  to  frighten  you,  sir,"  calmly  returned 
the  youth,  "  I  only  wish  you  to  do  what  is  right.  You 
have  twenty-six  thousand  dollars  of  this  man's  money. 
Give  it  to  him,  and  you  shall  be  left  alone." 

Thornton  started  up,  and  his  face  was  convulsed  with 
fear  and  passion. 

"  Out  of  my  room  !  "  he  cried.  "  Leave  it  at  once,  or 
you  shall  suffer  !  " 

"  I  know  all  about  that,"  said  the  youth.  "  If  you  place 
a  hand  upon  me  'twill  be  you  who  will  suffer.  But  enough 
of  this.  Now  mark  me  :  You  have  your  choice — Give 
this  man  his  money  here,  and  thus  be  free  from  further 
exposure,  or  go  at  once  to  the  Tombs,  where  you  will  be 
accommodated  until  you  can  be  tried  !  " 

Jasper  Thornton  began  to  think  there  was  more  in  this  than 
he  had  at  first  supposed,  yet  he  was  not  prepared  to  give  up. 

"You  are  mistaken  in  your  man,  sir,"  he  said.  "  I  hope 
you  will  put  me  to  no  more  trouble." 

"  Your  time  for  choosing  is  short,"  returned  Orion,  in 
the  same  calm,  assured  tone.  "  I  have  two  officers  at  hand, 
and  if  you  come  to  trial  you  will  find  yourself  face  to  face 
with  witnesses  whose  testimony  will  astonish  you.  Hand 
over  the  money,  sir — and  do  it  quickly,  too  !  " 

"  But  I  haven't  got  the  money,"  persisted  Thornton,  now 
cowed  and  alarmed. 


DESTITUTION.  91 

"  Then  we'll  see  if  we  can  find  it. — Mr.  Barnes,  will  you 
just  step  out  and  tell  the  officers  they  may  come  ?  " 

"  No  !  no  ! — stop  !  stop  !  "  cried  the  villain.  "  Why  will 
you  call  them  in  when  I  assure  you  I  haven't  the  money  ?" 

u  That's  the  very  reason  why  I  will  call  them,"  exclaimed 
Orion,  in  a  cool,  sarcastic  tone.  "  If  you  will  pay  the 
money  over  to  this  man  the  officers  will  not  touch  you — 
they  shall  not  see  you — and  you  shall  go  clear.  I  fancy 
you  would  not  wish  to  be  exposed  just  at  this  time,  and 
have  your  name  in  all  the  papers  !  " 

The  villain  sank  back  into  his  chair  and  for  a  moment 
he  remained  with  his  head  bowed.  Then  he  looked  up, 
and  his  whole  frame  quivered. 

-•'Bah!"  he  uttered,  with  the  last  effort  of  his  hopes. 
"  You  are  making  fools  of  yourselves.  Do  you  suppose  I 
can't  see  through  your  plan  ?  By  heavens,  I'll  have  you 
both  up  for  conspiracy  !  " 

"  Very  well, — Mr.  Barnes,  we'll  waste  no  more  time. 
Call  in  the  officers  !  " 

The  drover  had  placed  his  hand  upon  the  knob,  and  had 
started  the  door,  when  Thornton  leaped  to  his  feet. 

"  Hold  !  "  he  cried.  "  Don't  ruin  me  \  "  And  thus 
speaking  he  sank  down  again.  He  remained  a  moment 
with  his  hand  upon  his  brow,  and  then  he  placed  his  hand 
in  the  breast-pocket  of  his  coat.  But  he  drew  nothing 
forth. 

"  Oh  !  "  he  gasped,  "  how  came  you  by  the  knowledge 
you  have  pretended  to  possess  ?  " 

"  How  ?  "  repeated  Orion,  in  a  quick,  fiery  tone.  "  I'll 
tell  you  :  I  was  in  the  Jew's  store  when  you  came  in  last 
evening.  I  saw  you  plainly — as  plainly  as  I  see  you  now — 
when  you  came  in — when  you  changed  your  garb — and 
when  you  went  away.  And  from  that  moment  until  this 
morning  at  nearly  two,  I  was  not  out  of  hearing  from  you. 
I  had  a  friend  with  me,  and  together  we  followed,  and 
overlooked  and  overheard  you.  Now  you  know." 

«  Oh— fury  and  death  !  " 

"  Oh,  no — Say  mice  and  moonshine -,  for  your  expletives  will 
amount  to  nothing  more." 

Orion  said  this  with  a  smile,  and  the  villain  looked  angry. 
But  the  youth  did  not  hesitate  longer.  He  took  out  his 
watch  and  held  it  up. 


92  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

"  Now  look  ye,"  he  said,  in  a  firm,  decided  tone,  "  I 
give  you  just  fifteen  seconds  in  which  to  produce  that 
money.  At  the  end  of  that  time  the  officers  will  be  called 
without  fail.  No  movement  of  yours,  not  even  the  pro- 
ducing of  the  money,  shall  stay  the  hand  of  the  law  after 
that  moment.  The  Tombs— the  court-room — the  State's 
Prison  !  Now — one — two — three — four — five — six — seven 
— I'm  counting  the  seconds, — eleven — " 

"  Stop  !  "  gasped  the  rascal,  pale  as  death,  and  tremb- 
ling at  every  joint,  at  the  same  time  thrusting  his  hand  into 
the  pocket  of  his  coat,  which  hung  upon  the  back  of  his 
chair. 

He  drew  forth  a  handful  of  bank-notes  and  threw  them 
upon  the  table.  They  were  crumpled  all  up  in  a  wad,  just 
as  he  had  forced  them  in  there  when  he  heard  the  knock 
at  his  door. — Orion  bade  his  companion  to  count  them. 
Barnes  did  so,  and  he  found  just  fourteen  thousand  dollars. 

"  Let  us  have  the  rest ! "  peremptorily  ordered  the 
youth. 

«  But—" 

"No  buts!  Out  with  the  rest  of  that  money!  You 
brought  it  into  this  house  !  " 

Thornton  dared  not  hesitate.  He  saw  that  he  had  lost 
the  money  at  any  rate,  and  he  chose  to  give  it  up  thus, 
rather  than  have  it  taken  from  him  by  law.  So  he  took 
from  another  pocket  a  large  roll  of  notes,  which  he  also 
threw  upon  the  table. 

"  Ah  !  Here  is  my  money — just  as  I  lost  it !  "  cried  the 
drover,  in  joyous  accents. 

"  It  is  all  there,  is  it  ?  " 

«  Yes— every  dollar." 

"  Then  we  will  bid  you  a  very  good  morning,  sir,"  the 
gold-beater  said,  bowing  to  Mr.  Thornton. 

"Ho! — you  shall  suffer  for  this!"  the  villain  hissed, 
grinding  his  teeth  with  rage. 

"  Your  own  judgment  will  tell  you  how  far  you  had  bet- 
ter venture  with  me  !  "  our  hero  returned  ;  and  thus  say- 
ing he  left  the  room,  followed  by  Barnes. 

At  the  end  of  the  corridor  they  met  the  officers,  to  whom 
Orion  related  his  success  ;  and  the  party  went  away  better 
pleased  than  they  would  have  been  had  the  apprehension 
of  Thornton  been  necessary. 


RESTITUTION.  93 

"  Ah,"  said  the  youth,  "  I  knew  he  would  not  dare  to 
hold  out  when  he  became  sure  that  I  had  him  in  my  power." 
And  then  turning  to  Barnes  he  added  : 

"  And  now  I  must  leave  you.  I  trust  you  will  profit  by 
the  experience  you  have  thus  gained. — At  all  events,  re- 
member this  one  thing  :  Never  admit  to  your  confidence 
any  man  in  this  city  whom  you  do  not  know  to  be  honest. 
Beware  of  those  who  seek  your  friendship  if  you  know 
them  not." 

"  But  stop,"  cried  the  redeemed  man,  grasping  the  youth 
by  the  arm.  "  You  shall  not  leave  me  so.  You  have  more 
than  saved  life,  honor,  peace, — and  the  very  home  and  joy 
of  my  friends  !  Here — take  this." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Orion,  putting  away  the  hand  in  which  he 
saw  several  hundred-dollar  notes. — "  All  I  ask  is,  that  you 
will  not  forget  to  help  the  first  man  you  may  meet  who  may 
need  any  assistance  you  can  render.  But  hold  !  Not  far 
from  here  there  is  a  poor  family  that  I  found  almost  in  a 
state  of  starvation.  The  husband  and  father  is  dying  with 
consumption.  I  can  help  them  in  all  but  money.  Give  me 
something  for  them,  and  I  will  tell  them  who  was  the 
donor." 

The  grateful  man's  face  brightened  as  he  handed  his  pre- 
server a  hundred-dollar  bill.  But  Orion  would  only  take 
twenty  dollars. 

"  They  shall  have  this,"  he  said,  '•  and  I  will  tell  them 
who  sent  it," 

"  Tell  them  he  owed  it  to  you — and  a  hundred  times 
more — but  that  you  would  not  take  it. — Don't  praise  me." 

"  Well,"  said  the  youth,  with  a  smile,  at  the  same  time 
taking  the  stout  drover's  hand,  "  I'll  see  that  it  makes  much 
happiness  for  those  who  sadly  need  it.  Perhaps  we  shall 
meet  again.  If  we  do  we  shall  know  each  other,  and  if  we 
do  not  I  am  sure  neither  of  us  will  forget  the  other." 

Orion  heard  the  happy  man's  blessings  following  him 
upon  the  air  until  he  was  fairly  out  of  sight. 


94  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

CHAPTER    XII. 

PASSING    AWAY. 

\  FTER  leaving  Barnes,  Orion's  first  movement  was 
J\  towards  Murray  street,  where  Mr.  Tiverton's  counting- 
house  was.  He  found  the  merchant  in,  and  at  once 
related  to  him  the  events  of  the  morning. 

"  I  am  glad — I  am  glad,  sir,"  he  uttered,  at  the  same 
time  grasping  the  youth's  hand. 

"  Stop,"  quickly  interrupted  Orion.  "  Don't  flatter  me. 
Say  I  have  done  what  you  would  have  done  had  you  been 
in  a  position  to  do  it." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,  sir.  But — I  think  I  should. 
Yes — I  should  have  saved  the  poor  man  if  it  had  been  in 
my  power.  Yet  you  are  a  noble  man,  and  were  not  that 
your  own  soul  must  be  even  now  full  of  reward  for  the 
work  you  have  done,  I  might  say  more." 

"  Ah — you've  hit  the  truth  there,  sir,"  said  Orion,  with  a 
glow  of  pleasure.  "  Oh,  I  would  not  exchange  the  simple, 
heartfelt  blessings  of  that  saved  man  for  all  the  wealth  of 
this  great  city.  I  would  not — indeed  I  would  not." 

"  Of  course  you  would  not.  One  is  a  wealth  of  the  soul, 
which  abideth  forever,  while  the  other  is  a  mere  dross  which 
a  witty  thief  may  steal.  The  wealth  of  cities  is  valuable, 
but  only  valuable  in  so  far  as  it  serves  to  develope  and  sus- 
tain this  higher,  nobler  wealth." 

Orion  was  pleased  with  the  remarks  of  the  merchant,  and 
when  he  left  it  was  with  the  understanding  that  they  should 
meet  again  ere  long. 

As  the  gold-beater  came  out  from  the  great  counting- 
house  he  looked  aj  his  watch  and  found  it  just  ten  o'clock. 
He  concluded  that  he  would  return  to  the  shop,  and  if 
things  there  were  so  that  he  could  leave,  he  would  go  down 
to  the  Five  Points  and  see  Mrs.  Milmer.  When  he  reached 
the  court  he  found  Mr.  Garvey  just  coming  out,  who  in- 
formed him  that  little  'Lizzie  had  been  up  after  him. 

"  She  said  her  father  was  very  sick,  and  that  he  wished 
to  see  you,"  explained  Garvey.  "  I  told  her  I  would  send 
you  down  as  soon  as  you  came.  But  how  about  the  busi- 
ness with  Mr.  Thornton  ?  " 


PASSING  A  WA  Y.  95 

"  It's  all  right,"  returned  Orion  ;  "and  when  I  return  I'll 
explain  it — I'll  tell  you  the  whole  story." 

"  That's  right.  Hurry  off  now,  and  we'll  have  the  story 
when  you  come  back.  How  is  it  about  money  ?  " 

"  I  have  plenty.  The  man  for  whom  I  have  been  at  work 
gave  me  twenty  dollars  for  these  poor  people." 

Without  further  remark  the  youth  turned  and  hurried 
away  from  the  court.  There  was  a  sad,  gloomy  foreboding 
in  his  mind  as  he  approached  the  poverty-stricken  district, 
for  something  told  him  he  was  going  to  the  bed  of  death. 
When  he  reached  the  corner  groggery  he  looked  in,  and  it 
seemed  as  though  the  same  ghastly  faces  were  there  now  as 
before.  Death  was  written  upon  all  he  saw — death  of  body 
and  death  of  soul  !  There  were  black  and  white — male  and 
female — adults  and  children.  As  he  cast  his  eyes  towards  the 
long,  dirty  bar,  he  saw  a  little  girl,  not  more  than  six  years  of 
age,  just  paying  for  a  bottle  of  gin  which  she  had  purchased 
— probably  for  a  drunken  mother  !  He  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  to  stop  and  look  at  that  child.  She  was  a 
bright,  intelligent-looking  girl,  with  curly  flaxen  hair,  and 
large  brilliant  blue  eyes,  and  the  expression,  even  upon  her 
tender  features,  was  one  of  conscious  shame.  The  little 
thing  hugged  the  accursed  bottle  under  her  arm  and  started 
to  come  out.  Near  the  door,  and  sitting  upon  an  old  beer 
barrel,  was  a  middle-aged  woman,  whose  shriveled,  quack- 
ing form  was  half  covered  with  united  rags,  and  whose  face 
was  the  very  picture  of  the  glaring,  maddened  idiot.  She 
watched  the  child  like  a  tigress,  and  as  the  latter  came  near 
she  sprang  toward — caught  the  bottle  in  her  bony  hand — 
and,  with  a  movement  almost  miraculous  in  its  quick  pre- 
cision, she  tore  out  the  cork  and  raised  the  vessel  to  her 
lips.  The  child  uttered  a  quick  cry  of  fear  and  alarm,  and 
a  stout  man,  who  sat  near  by,  caught  the  bottle  from  the 
woman's  grasp.  She  struggled  hard,  but  a  loud  laugh 
broke  from  her  lips  as  she  lost  it,  and  in  a  coarse,  brutal 
tone  she  boasted  that  she  had  gained  a  drink  ! 

Orion  could  have  caught  the  weeping  child  to  his  bosom  ; 
but  he  knew  that  to  effect  any  good  there  would  be  beyond 
his  power.  He  heard  the  little  one  cry  out  that  her  mother 
would  beat  her  for  having  lost  the  liquor,  and  he  heard  the 
keeper  order  her  to  go  home  with  what  she  had  left.  Just 
then  a  sailor,  who  looked  poor  and  forlorn  himself,  called 


$6  ORION,  THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

the  child  to  him — had  her  bottle  refilled — paid  for  it  him* 
self — and  then  bade  her  "  haul  her  wind  out  o'  that  quick  as 
possible."  Orion  blessed  that  poor  man  in  his  soul,  and 
then  turned  away.  He  wanted  to  see  no  more  of  life  in 
that  place.  He  made  his  way  up  the  rickety  wooden  steps 
upon  the  outside  of  the  building,  being  obliged  to  crowd 
up  between  a  double  row  of  young  dirty  faces,  and  when 
he  reached  the  little  hall  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  find 
the  door  directly  ahead  closed,  so  he  had  not  to  look  upon 
the  horrors  in  there.  He  groped  his  way  through  the  dis- 
mal, Tartarean  passage  without  meeting  any  other  obstruc- 
tion than  the  thick  darkness,  and  when  he  judged  that  he 
had  reached  the  point  where  the  door  ought  to  be,  stopped 
and  rapped  with  his  knuckles. 

In  a  few  moments  the  door  was  opened,  and  the  sweet 
little  face  of  Lizzie  gleamed  out  upon  him.  The  child 
uttered  a  quick  cry  of  joy  as  she  saw  him,  and  took  his 
hand  at  once.  When  he  entered  the  narrow,  den-like 
room  he  found  Mrs.  Milmer  upon  the  bed,  though  he  could 
not  at  first  see  her  because  of  the  clothes  which  were  hung 
up  between  the  door  and  the  place  where  she  lay.  They 
were  most  of  them  bed-clothes,  and  very  damp,  giving  to 
the  room  a  heavy,  unhealthy  atmosphere.  But  the  youth 
soon  worked  his  way  to  the  bed,  and  the  moment  he  looked 
upon  James  Milmer  he  knew  he  was  dying.  Constance 
grasped  his  hand,  and  tried  to  speak,  but  tears  and  sobs 
choked  her  utterance.  She  still  held  the  hand  of  her  noble 
friend,  and  pressed  it  frantically  to  her  lips. 

"  Hush  ! "  whispered  Orion,  in  a  genial,  hopeful  tone. 
"  Why  should  you  weep  thus  ?  " 

"Oh,  sir!  —  he  —  is  —  my  James  is  —  dying!  Oh! 
Oh!  Oh!" 

"  And  do  you  weep  for  that !  Look  up."  The  youth 
spoke  in  a  deep,  calm  tone,  with  authority,  and  yet  with 
hope  and  peaceful  meaning.  "  Look  upon  the  scene  he  is 
leaving.  Would  ye  keep  him  here  ?  Say — would  ye  hold 
him  down  in  this  vale  of  sorrow  and  of  tears  while  his 
Saviour  calls  him  away?  Would  ye  bind  him  still  longer  to 
this  bed  of  pain,  and  this  home  of  want,  while  his  Father 
in  Heaven  is  ready  to  take  him  HOME  ? " 

Constance  Milmer  gazed  up,  and  a  bright,  warm  light 
gradually  broke  over  her  face.  Her  eyes  filled  with  tears 


PASSING  A  IV AY.  97 

anew,  but  they  were  different  from  those  she  had  been 
shedding. 

"  Bless  you,"  she  murmured,  still  clinging  to  his  hand. 
"  Oh,  God  sent  you  to  us  !  I  know  you  are  right ;  I  ought 
not  to  mourn  ;  but  yet  I  cannot  help  it." 

"  You  may  mourn — and  you  may  weep — as  we  all  weep 
when  the  tender  cords  of  the  soul's  holiest  affections  are 
being  snapped  in  sunder ;  but  mourn  not  with  despair  ; 
weep  not  in  misery.  Our  Saviour  wept  with  his  mourning 
sisters  when  one  whom  he  had  loved  was  dead  ;  but  he 
wept  with  a  great,  an  abiding  faith.  Ah,  your  loved  com- 
panion may  soon  be  free  from  all  his  pains,  and  trials,  and 
troubles.  'He  is  bound  for  that  home  where  tears  are 
wiped  off  from  all  faces,  and  where  the  weary  are  at  rest. 
Let  the  thought  that  you  have  always  been  kind  to  him — 
that  you  have  been  loving  and  true — be  your  solace  now. 
Ah,  though  the  tears  will  flow  in  such  an  hour,  yet  there  is 
joy  for  the  true  and  faithful  Christian." 

Constance  had  ceased  to  weep,  and  was  now  gazing 
eagerly  into  the  speaker's  face. 

"  Speak  on,"  she  said,  as  he  hesitated.  "  Speak  on.  Oh, 
your  words  are  a  balm  to  my  soul — a  healing  to  my  spirit." 

"  I  can  say  little  more  which  your  own  mind  will  not  call 
up,"  returned  Orion,  in  the  same  calm,  trusting,  hopeful 
tone,  and  with  a  look  of  holy  meaning  upon  his  face. 
"  You  have  only  calmly  to  reflect  to  see  all  this  as  I  have 
presented  it.  We  know  the  soul  of  man  cannot  die.  What 
we  call  death  is  but  the  birth  of  a  new-born  spirit.  And 
what  scene  on  earth  can  be  more  holy  than  the  passing 
away  of  the  worn  and  weary  soul  that  holds  its  trusting 
faith  in  God  ?  Oh,  I  should  not  wish  to  see  the  hard- 
hearted, ungodly  man  die.  There  is  something  dreadful 
in  the  very  thought.  But  to  witness  the  sweet  slumber  of 
him  who  falls  asleep  in  faith  and  hope,  amid  the  soul- 
dreams  of  heaven  and  the  angels,  is  not  dreadful — it  is 
not  even  unpleasant.  To  be  sure  it  is  awe-inspiring,  but 
then  that  awe  is  lost  in  Faith.  My  sister,  you  would  not 
call  him  back,  would  you  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  no,"  she  quickly  replied.  "  I  would  not.  I  am 
content.  God  have  mercy  !  " 

"  He  will !  "  whispered  a  voice. 

Orion  turned,  and  those  great  black  eyes  were  fixed  upon 


98  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

him.  Oh,  how  changed  the  man  was,  even  from  when 
the  youth  had  first  seen  him  !  The  features  were  all  sunken 
— the  flesh  all  gone — and  only  those  eyes,  dark,  brilliant, 
and  large,  still  retained  their  fullness.  The  contrast  was 
strange,  and  at  first  sight  startling.  The  dying  man  called 
his  child  to  his  side  and  whispered  in  her  ear.  He  could 
not  speak  aloud.  She  bowed  her  head  as  he  spoke,  and 
having  folded  her  little  hands,  she  sang,  in  a  sweet,  rich, 
warbling  tone,  and  with  a  most  melodious  accent  and  key, 
these  lines,  which  she  had  learned  on  purpose  to  please 
him : 

"  I  would  not  live  alway  ;  I  ask  not  to  stay 
Where  storm  after  storm  rises  dark  o'er  the  way  ; 
The  few  lucid  mornings  that  dawn  on  us  here 
Are  followed  by  gloom,  and  beclouded  with  fear." 

When  she  had  concluded  the  hymn,  James  Milmer 
uttered  a  whispered  "  Amen,"  and  his  wife  and  Orion  fol- 
lowed his  example.  After  this  there  was  a  season  of 
silence,  and  then  Orion  asked  why  those  damp  clothes  were 
hung  up  in  the  little  room. 

"  It  is  very  unhealthy,"  he  said.  "  It  is  even  worse,  if 
possible,  than  the  pestilential  atmosphere  which  surrounds 
you." 

"  Alas,  I  know  it,  sir,"  Mrs.  Milmer  replied,  sadly  ;  "  but 
we  must  dry  them." 

"  But  there  is  a  line  suspended  from  yon  window  to  the 
wall  over  the  little  court- way  here.  Why  not  hang  them 
there  ?  You  could  reach  them  all  from  your  room." 

"  Ah,  sir — we  have  tried  that ;  but  they  are  stolen  from 
there." 

"  Stolen  ?     But  you  can  take  them  in  before  dark." 

"  Umph  !  "  muttered  Mrs.  Milmer,  with  a  dubious  shake 
of  the  head,  "you  don't  understand  our  neighbors  here. 
Right  over  in  that  court,  there,  is  a  nest  of  thieves.  They 
are  lounging  about  in  there  all  day  when  it  is  pleasant. 
They  climb  up  over  the  fence  upon  the  little  plank  walk, 
and  steal  them  right  before  our  face  and  eyes," 

"  And  can  you  not  get  at  them  ? " 

"  Not  without  going  down  into  the  street  and  passing 
through  another  house  ;  and  that  would  be  too  dangerous." 

"  Is  it  possible  that  you  have  thieves  at  once  so  bold  and 
SO  mean?"  said  Orion,  more  in  pity  than  in  surprise. 


PASSING  A  IV A  Y.  99 

A  strange  shade  passed  over  Mrs.  Milmer's  face,  and 
after  a  moment's  thought  she  resumed  : 

"  Oh,  sir,  you  know  nothing  of  the  nature  of  those  who 
surround  us  here.  When  you  brought  that  basket  of  food 
and  clothing  here  upon  your  first  visit,  many  of  these  neigh- 
bors saw  it.  On  the  next  day  I  went  out  to  purchase  some 
medicine.  While  I  was  gone  the  thieves  came  into  this 
room  and  pulled  the  very  sheets  from  off  my  sick,  helpless 
husband  !  He  clasped  his  hands  towards  them  and  im- 
plored ;  but  they  heeded  him  not.  They  took  what  they 
wished — left  him  lying  naked  upon  the  bed — and  then  went 
away.  When  I  returned  I  found  poor  Lizzie  crying  as 
though  her  heart  would  break,  and  my  husband  lying  cold 
and  shivering,  without  shelter.  He  told  me  what  had  hap- 
pened, but  I  could  do  nothing  towards  getting  the  lost 
things  back."  * 

Orion  shuddered,  and  was  upon  the  point  of  making  a 
remark  which,  upon  second  thought,  he  hushed.  His  im- 
pulse was  one  of  thankfulness  that  the  poor  woman  might 
soon  be  free  from  the  accursed  place  of  groggeries  and 
robbers'  dens — made  free  by  the  freedom  from  earth  of  the 
worn  spirit  for  the  mundane  tabernacle  of  which  she  now 
labored  so  incessantly.  But  he  would  not  speak  it. 

"  Is  it  possible  that  such  people  exist  about  you  ?  "  he 
uttered,  sadly.  "  I  knew  that  there  were  deeply-dyed 
villains  here,  but  I  did  think  that  they  had  some  little 
sympathy  for  those  poor  creatures  whom  misfortune  had 
brought  down  to  be  neighbors  with  them." 

"  No,  no,"  murmured  Constance,  with  another  sad  shake 
of  the  head.  "  They  seem  to  be  without  a  single  spark  of- 
humanity.  Only  the  one  simple  feature  of  walking  upright 
is  theirs  to  distinguish  them  from  the  very  brutes  !  It  is 
true  !  Oh,  sir,  it  is  !  " 

*  Let  the  reader  bear  in  mind  that  we  write  only  of  what  we  know  and 
have  seen.  If  you  would  see  these  same  things,  and  hear  such  tales  of 
horror  as  we  have  heard,  and  witness  such  scenes  of  despair  as  we  have 
witnessed,  go  with  Rev.  W.  C.  Van  Meter,  the  assistant  missionary  of 
Five  Points  Mission,  who  is  a  noble,  whole-souled  man,  true  and  faithful 
in  every  good  word  and  work,  and  he  will  show  you  more  than  you  would 
wish  to  see  a  second  time,  and  more  than  even  the  desire  to  be  graphic 
in  our  portraiture  of  city  life  can  tempt  us  to  transcribe  upon  these 
pages. 


JPOO  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

"  God  have  mercy  on  them  !  "  ejaculated  Lizzie,  from 
her  little  stool  in  the  corner.  "  Oh  !  mamma,  they  don't 
know  what  to  do.  They  never  had  a  good  mamma  to  teach 
them  the  way  of  love  and  of  goodness.  How  I  wish  they 
could  be  good  and  happy  !  " 

"  Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto  me,  and  forbid  them 
not,  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven  !  "  involuntarily 
murmured  the  young  gold-beater. 

Just  as  the  words  had  dropped  from  his  lips  James 
Milmer  uttered  a  deep  groan,  and  slowly  raised  his  hand  to 
his  mouth.  His  wife  handed  him  some  drink,  which  he 
grasped  eagerly,  but  could  not  drink.  He  wet  his  lips, 
and  his  appetite  was  gone.  After  this  he  sank  down,  and 
remained  for  some  moments  without  moving.  Soon  there 
was  a  deep  heaving  of  the  bosom,  and  the  dying  man 
opened  his  eyes  with  a  sudden  start.  He  gazed  eagerly 
around  until  he  saw  Orion,  and  then  he  made  a  motion  as 
though  he  would  have  the  visitor  come  closer  to  him.  The 
youth  moved  at  once  to  the  bedside,  and  the  invalid  tried 
to  speak.  He  opened  his  lips,  and  an  internal  struggle 
was  evident,  but  he  was  too  weak.  His  lungs  were  past 
service.  When  he  realized  that  he  could  not  speak,  a  dark 
shade  passed  over  his  features,  and  for  an  instant  he 
seemed  unhappy. 

"  You  are  going  home,  James,"  whispered  our  hero. 
"  This  scene  of  darkness  and  of  want  will  soon  be  passed.'5 

The  poor  man  made  one  last,  powerful  effort,  and  raised 
himself  partly  up.  Orion  saw  his  wish,  and  he  raised  him 
to  a  sitting  posture,  placing  the  pillows  behind  him.  The 
invalid  smiled  his  gratitude,  and  then  reached  forth  his 
hands  towards  his  wife  and  child.  They  came  to  him,  and 
as  he  placed  his  hands  upon  their  heads  he  turned  a  power- 
ful, imploring  look  upon  the  youth.  Then  Orion  under- 
stood his  meaning.  He  saw  now  what  the  dying  man  had 
been  trying  to  communicate. 

"  I  understand  you,"  he  said  ;  "  and  you  may  be  per- 
fectly free  from  all  care  on  that  account.  Your  wife  and 
child  shall  be  cared  for.  I  give  you  my  solemn  promise 
that  they  shall  have  a  good  home." 

James  Milmer  looked  the  thanks  he  could  not  speak,  and 
having  kissed  his  loved  ones  he  closed  his  eyes.  Ere  long 
there  was  a  change  upon  his  face—  the  long,  heavy  breath- 


PASSING  AlVA  F.  ,  ,         :      /  lot 

ing  became  more  labored — and  the  large,  dark  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  a  point  near  the  little  shelf  whereon  a  simple 
picture  stood  against  the  wall.  The  breath  now  came  at 
long  intervals,  each  one  with  a  deep  groan  or  gasp,  and 
between  them  the  whole  frame  was  quiet.  At  length  these 
gasps  came  at  such  long  intervals,  that  at  the  end  of  each 
one  it  seemed  as  though  life  were  gone.  But  finally,  the 
breast  arose  with  a  mighty  effort — one  long,  struggling 
breath — and  then  a  shade  passed  over  the  face  like  the 
shadow  of  a  cloud  sweeping  across  the  surface  of  the  earth. 
The  light  of  the  eyes  died  away  to  a  leaden  hue,  and  the 
struggle  ceased. 

Orion  Lindell  turned  to  the  weeping  wife,  and  taking 
both  her  hands  in  his  own,  he  said: 

"  My  dear  friend,  the  storm  is  over — the  darkness  is 
passed.  The  weary  spirit  has  found  its  rest,  and  the  sea- 
son of  pain  is  gone  never  to  return.  Oh,  how  much  bet- 
ter off  the  loved  one  is  now  !  " 

The  poor  widow  wept,  but  her  tears  were  warm  and 
grateful,  and  a  gleam  of  faith  and  hope  shone  through 
tnem.  After  Orion  had  waited  awhile  for  the  first  burst  of 
grief  to  pass  away,  he  spoke  of  the  funeral  Said  he  : 

"  I  will  call  upon  the  missionary  of  the  establishment 
close  by  here,  and  he  will  see  to  your  wants  in  this  last 
scene  of  your  life  in  this  locality.  Will  that  suit  your 
desires  ? " 

She  gratefully  answered  that  it  would. 

Accordingly  the  young  man  went  over  to  the  Mission, 
and  the  good  people  there  were  ready  and  willing  to  do  all 
they  could,  and  they  only  felt  sorry  that  they  had  not 
learned  of  the  destitute  condition  of  the  family  before.  He 
left  with  them  money  enough  to  pay  all  the  expenses,  and 
they  promised  to  attend  faithfully  to  the  work,  the  mission- 
ary himself  offering  to  officiate  at  the  funeral. 

After  this,  Orion  returned  to  the  little  room  where  the 
widow  was,  and  having  informed  her  of  what  he  had  doner 
and  gained  her  promise  that  she  would  be  governed  by  the 
plans  thus  projected,  he  gave  her  a  sum  of  money  sufficient 

to  meet  her  present  wants,  and  then  took  his  leave. 
******* 

On  the  second  day  after  that  the  funeral  took  place- 
Orion  attended  it,  and  his  employer  came  with  him.  Mr- 


10*  ORfQN,   fHE  COLD  BEATER. 

Garvey  was  astonished  at  the  scene  of  misery  and  want 
that  met  his  gaze.  He  thought  he  knew  all  about  life  in 
the  great  city,  but  he  had  never  even  dreamed  of  such 
things  as  he  saw  on  this  occasion. 

The  services  were  concluded,  and  the  corpse  was  borne 
away  to  the  grave  which  had  been  procured  partly  through 
the  influence  of  Mr.  Tiverton.  When  the  party  returned, 
Orion  accompanied  Mrs.  Milmer  back  to  her  wretched 
home.  She  had  some  things  there  to  collect,  and  hoped 
that  she  might  be  able  to  leave  in  two  days.  Our  hero 
learned  from  her  that  she  was  expert  with  the  needle, 
understanding  all  the  usual  varieties  of  fine  work,  and  he 
assured  her  that  he  could  easily  find  her  a  good  home.  He 
knew  that  Mr.  Tiverton  would  help  him.  Having  prom- 
ised to  call  again  on  the  second  day  from  that,  and  having 
gained  from  her  a  promise  that  if  she  needed  any  assistance 
she  would  go  to  the  Mission,  he  took  his  leave. 

For  a  long  while  after  her  faithful  friend  was  gone  the 
poor  widow  sat  with  her  child  clasped  tightly  in  her  arms. 
In  spite  of  all  her  hopes,  there  was  a  dark,  threatening 
cloud  hovering  over  her.  She  had  not  dared  to  tell  Orion 
her  fears,  but  there  was  a  fear  present  with  her — a  dark 
and  heavy  fear.  She  did  not  feel  safe  in  that  place  ! 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

CONVALESCENCE. — A    PLEASING    INTERVIEW. 

ELLEN  DURAND  had  recovered  from  the  pain  of  her 
severe  wounds,  and  was  now  only  kept  down  by 
weakness,  or  physical  prostration.  She  had  escaped  a 
settled  fever  ;  though  she  was  well  aware  that  danger 
might  follow  any  undue  effort.  Her  good  guardian  had 
visited  her  nearly  every  day  ;  and,  on  his  last  visit,  finding 
her  calm  and  contented,  with  her  mind  strong  and  unim- 
paired, he  ventured  to  relate  to  her  the  scene  which  he  and 
Orion  had  witnessed.  She  was  not  startled  at  all,  and  the 
merchant  was  most  agreeably  surprised  upon  finding  that 
his  account  seemed  rather  to  give  her  relief  than  other- 
wise. 


CONVALESCENCE.— A    PLEASING  INTERVIEW.      103 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  told  me  all,"  she  said,  "  for  now  I 
am  assured.  The  thoughts  I  have  held  concerning  that 
man  have  been  dark  and  dubious,  but  henceforth  I  shall 
have  no  more  doubts.  I  knew  something  before.  Mrs. 
Lindell  told  me  what  she  had  heard." 

•'  Ah  ?  "  uttered  Tiverton,  half  inquisitively,  half  in  sur- 
prise. 

"  Yes,"  resumed  Ellen.  "  Mr.  Thornton  called  here  and 
wished  to  see  me,  and  then  the  good  woman  told  me  the 
story.  I  know  why  she  told  it  :  She  could  not  bear  to  see 
me  deceived  by  such  a  wretch.  Yet  she  made  herself  sure 
that  I  held  some  doubts  in  my  own  min€  ere  she  spoke." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  merchant,  "  I  am  glad  you  know 
all  about  it  now.  I  am  sorry — very  sorry,  that  Jasper 
Thornton  should  have  proved  himself  such  a  villain.  He 
had  every  opportunity  for  a  high  and  useful  career.  No 
youth  ever  commenced  life  with  fairer  prospects  than  he 
did.  He  possessed  a  fortune  upon  the  bare  interest  of 
which  he  might  have  lived  sumptuously  all  his  days.  He 
had  a  good  education,  and  he  had  friends  who  would 
gladly  have  helped  him  in  any  life-plan  he  might  have 
adopted  had  it  been  honorable.  But  he  had  made  his  own 
pillow — made  it  of  thorns  and  thistles — and  he  must  suffer 
for  the  consequences.  It  is  not  too  late  for  him  to  pluck 
out  those  thorns  now ;  but  it  would  leave  the  case  empty, 
and  I  doubt  if  he  has  the  energy  to  refill  it  in  a  proper  and 
legitimate  way.  However,  all  the  reform  in  the  world 
could  not  now  make  him  fit  for  your  husband.  There  are 
some  taints  which,  though  they  should  not  shut  a  man  out 
from  sympathy  and  encouragement,  nor  yet  from  pure 
society,  if  they  be  sincerely  repented  of,  must  forever  for- 
bid his  seeking  an  alliance  with  a  pure  and  virtuous  girl. 
We  can  pray  for  him,  and  even  encourage  him,  if  he  will 
encourage  himself,  but  we  cannot  admit  him,  as  he  is  now, 
to  our  confidence  any  more." 

The  maiden  held  the  same  opinions,  and  expressed  much 
real  sorrow  at  the  man's  fall.  For  a  while  longer  the  con- 
versation turned  upon  topics  touching  the  strange  course 
of  Thornton,  and  Ellen  was  earnest  in  her  praises  of  the 
generous  youth  who  had  saved  the  poor  drover  from  ruin. 
By  and  by  there  followed  a  short  silence,  at  the  end  of 
which  the  fair  girl  said; 


104  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

"  I  have  not  yet  seen  Orion  Lindell  ;  and  yet  I  would 
like  to  see  him  very  much.  I  have  asked  his  mother  sev- 
eral times  if  her  son  would  not  come  in  and  inform  me  of 
what  was  going  on  in  the  city,  but  she  shakes  her  head,  and 
says  he  had  better  not  come.  Do  you  think  there  would 
be  anything  at  all  out  of  the  way,  my  dear  guardian,  in  his 
sitting  here  and  talking  with  me  ?  Oh,  I  do  want  to  talk 
with  somebody  nearer  my  own  age.  Mrs.  Lindell  is  a 
noble  woman,  but  her  conversation  is  most  all  deep  and 
mere  matter-of-fact ;  and  when  she  runs  into  anything 
imaginary  it  is  sure  to  be  on  the  philosophy  of  life,  or  else 
upon  some  moral  or  religious  topic.  I  love  to  hear  her, 
and  I  do  enjoy  her  deep  moral  and  religious  lessons,  for 
they  are  full  of  love  and  kindness ;  but  I  have  often 
thought  that  I  should  feel  happier  to  have  some  of  my 
tedious  moments  enlivened  by  the  presence  of  the  young 
man  who  saved  me.  There  wouldn't  be  anything  out  of 
the  way,  would  there  ?  " 

Mr.  Tiverton  did  not  answer  at  first.  He  arose  and 
walked  across  the  room,  and  when  he  came  back  he  sat 
down  and  bowed  his  head. 

"  What  harm  can  there  be  ?  "  the  maiden  earnestly  asked, 
as  she  saw  her  guardian  hesitate. 

"  None  at  all,  my  dear — none  at  all,"  he  finally  said,  rais- 
ing his  head  and  smiling  upon  his  sweet  ward.  "  I  was 
only  pondering  upon  it.  Had  you  been  my  own  child  I 
should  not  have  hesitated  a  moment.  But  there  can  be 
nothing  out  of  the  way — nothing  at  all,  I  will  speak  with 
Mrs.  Lindell  if  you  wish." 

"  I  wish  you  would,"  said  Ellen. 

"  I  will." 

Not  long  after  the  merchant  took  his  leave  of  the  sick 
girl,  and  in  the  parlor  he  stopped  to  speak  with  the 
hostess. 

Catherine  Lindell  had  now  so  far  overcome  the  strange 
emotions  which  had  moved  her  on  her  first  few  interviews 
with  the  wealthy  visitor,  that  she  could  converse  with  him 
very  calmly,  though  she  dared  not  meet  his  gaze,  for  this 
she  could  not  do  without  trembling.  Mr.  Tiverton,  on  the 
other  hand,  could  not  look  upon  her  without  strange  feel- 
ings, though  it  was  beyond  his  power  to  account  for  them. 
He  had  seen  that  to  question  her  seemed  to  pain  her,  and 


CONVALESCENCE.— A    PLEASING  INTERVIEW.      105 

he  had  resolved  to  let  the  mystery  rest,  at  least  for  the 
present  time. 

"  Mrs.  Lindell,"  he  said,  without  stopping  to  take  a  seat, 
"  my  ward  is  very  anxious  to  see  your  son.  She  has  asked 
my  opinion,  and  I  have  thought  upon  it  carefully.  I  told 
her  I  could  see  nothing  improper  in-  it,  and  that  I  would 
request  you  to  let  the  youth  call  in  and  sit  with  her  a  while. 
Of  course  you  can  have  no  objections." 

"  Of  course  not,  sir,"  the  woman  returned  ;  "  I  only 
wished  him  to  remain  away  because  I  felt  that  the  maiden's 
friends  might  not  like  to  have  him  become  familiar  with 
her.  I  considered  my  trust  a  sacred  one." 

"  You  were  right,  madam — perfectly  right  ;  and  very 
kind,  too.  But  now  your  considerations  must  be  for  your- 
self. Ellen  feels  the  want  of  some  companionship  from 
youth,  and  I  should  be  pleased  to  have  Orion  make  her 
acquaintance." 

Shortly  after  this  the  merchant  took  his  leave,  and  when 
Mrs.  Lindell  was  left  alone  she  bowed  her  head  upon  her 
hands  and  remained  so  for  some  minutes.  When  she  arose 
she  was  calm,  but  paler  than  was  her  wont,  though  after  she 
had  been  a  short  time  with  Ellen  the  color,  what  little  she 
had,  came  back  to  her  face. 

That  evening  Orion  returned  earlier  than  usual,  and 
after  he  had  eaten  his  supper  his  mother  asked  him  if  he 
would  like  to  go  up  and  see  Ellen  Durand.  He  started  as 
he  heard  the  question,  and  for  a  moment  he  seemed  to 
think  his  mother  might  be  teasing  him. 

"  She  is  very  anxious  to  see  you,"  explained  the  widow, 
"  and  has  been  so  for  some  time,  but  I  have  told  her  that 
it  would  not  do.  To-day  her  guardian  has  been  here,  and 
she  asked  him  if  you  might  not  come  in  and  chat  with  her 
occasionally.  He  said  yes,  and  requested  me  to  let  you  do 
so.  You  may  go  in  now,  if  you  please." 

"  If  she  wishes  it  I  will  do  so  with  pleasure,"  said  the 
youth.  "  Will  you  go  and  see  ?  " 

'•  Of  course,"  returned  the  mother  ;  and  thus  speaking 
she  left  the  room.  Ere  long  she  returned  and  informed 
her  son  that  Miss  Durand  would  be  pleased  to  see  him. 

There  was  a  strange  fluttering  of  the  youth's  heart  as  he 
started  to  follow  his  parent,  and  it  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at  that  it  was  so.  He  was  not  much  used  to  the  society  of 


Io6  ORION,  THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

females,  and  beyond  this  the  peculiar  circumstances  under 
which  he  was  placed  in  relation  to  the  girl  in  question  were 
calculated  to  render  the  meeting  one  of  more  than  ordi- 
nary import.  He  followed  his  mother  to  the  room,  and 
when  he  reached  the  bedside  he  was  introduced  to  Ellen 
Durand,  He  saw  a  sweet,  lovely  face,  about  which  clus- 
tered a  profusion  of  brown  ringlets,  and  which  was  lighted 
up  with  a  genial  smile  that  seemed  to  center  in  her  deep, 
sparkling,  hazel  eyes.  He  had  not  thought  of  finding  so 
beautiful  a  being.  But  the  disappointment  was  not  all  on 
his  side.  The  very  look  of  the  maiden  clearly  showed  that 
she  found  a  man  far  more  noble  and  handsome  in  personal 
appearance  than  she  had  anticipated.  This  could  be  seen 
in  the  sudden  tremulousness  of  her  eye,  and  in  the  grateful 
expression  that  crept  upon  her  face.  One  thing  is  sure  ! 
In  all  her  intercourse  with  the  other  sex  she  had  never 
come  across  a  man  who  possessed  at  once  the  same  amount 
of  physical  force,  of  moral  courage,  and  of  manly  beauty. 
She  gazed  upon  his  face,  beaming,  as  it  was,  with  the  light 
of  a  great  and  generous  soul ;  and  then  her  eye  instinc- 
tively ran  over  his  wondrous  form  of  symmetry  and  phys- 
ical power  combined. 

For  a  few  minutes  there  was  a  spirit  of  restraint  in  their 
conversation,  but  ere  long  this  restraint  wore  off,  and  then 
they  entered  into  a  dialogue  of  much  interest,  with  grace 
and  freedom.  The  maiden  told  of  her  parents — how  they 
had  died  and  left  her  in  the  care  of  Mr.  Tiverton  ;  and 
then  she  told  how  generous  and  kind  her  guardian  had 
ever  been  to  her.  Finally  she  asked  Orion  if  he  had  any 
recollection  of  his  father. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  returned  the  youth.  "  I  was  six  years  old 
when  he  died,  and  I  can  remember  him  very  well.  He  was 
a  good  man,  and  many  people  were  sorry  when  he 
died." 

After  they  had  thus  learned  each  other's  private  history, 
Ellen  asked  Orion  about  the  poor  family  he  had  visited  at 
the  Five  Points.  He  commenced  the  narrative  intending 
only  to  give  a  general  outline  of  the  things  he  had  seen,  but 
as  he  got  into  the  work  he  became  interested,  and  gradu- 
ally he  grew  eloquent  and  affecting.  He  drew  a  faithful 
picture  of  what  he  had  seen,  and  when  he  came  to  the 
death  scene  of  James  Milmer  his  fair  hearer  wept.  He 


CONVALESCENCE. —A   PLEASING  INTERVIEW.      107 

stopped  as  he  saw  this,  and  begged  her  pardon  for  having 
ventured  so  far. 

"  Oh,  no,  no,"  she  cried.  "  Do  not  stop.  I  weep  because 
I  feel  a  deep  sympathy  for  the  poor  people.  It  will  not 
harm  me.  Tell  me  all." 

So  the  youth  went  on  and  told  the  whole  story,  and  when 
he  had  concluded  Ellen  said  : 

"  I  never  knew  there  was  such  misery  in  our  city  before. 
Oh,  here  am  I,  a  woman  grown,  and  never  yet  have  I  been 
of  the  least  service  to  my  suffering  fellow-creatures." 

"  Ah,"  returned  Orion,  with  a  smile,  "  we  all  may  feel  a 
wish  to  help  poor  people  when  we  know  of  their  sufferings, 
and  yet  not  be  able  to  do  it.  Peculiar  circumstances  threw 
this  case  in  my  way,  or  I  might  never  have  had  the  pleasure 
I  now  have  of  knowing  that  the  prayers  of  the  righteous 
are  ascending  to  heaven  in  my  belief." 

"  Perhaps  so,"  said  Ellen.  "  But  just  remember  how 
many  would  have  turned  coldly  away  from  the  ragged, 
dirty  girl.  Ah,  there  are  very  few  who  are  willing  to  sacri- 
fice anything  of  personal  comfort  for  the  good  of  poor, 
suffering  humanity.  There  are  thousands  who  would  risk 
their  very  existence  to  save  the  life  of  a  nabob,  but  who 
would  push  the  humble  child  of  poverty  from  their  path." 

"  I  know  it,"  added  the  youth,  half  sadly  ;  "  but  still  it  is 
not  really  the  result  of  direct  evil  in  the  minds  of  those 
thousands.  There  is  a  natural  deference  to  wealth  and 
station  which  leads  the  masses  to  their  assistance,  while 
poverty  wears  a  more  repulsive  garb  that  requires  direct 
moral  force  in  the  character  of  those  who  work  for  it. 
Many  a  man  who  possesses  a  good  kind  heart,  but  who  at 
the  same  time  has  a  touch  of  indolence  and  timidity,  flees 
from  the  assistance  of  poverty  simply  because  he  lacks  the 
courage  and  will  to  visit  its  homes.  I  believe  sincerely, 
that  there  is  good  feeling  enough  in  our  city  to  relieve  every 
case  of  honest  poverty  in  it  if  it  could  only  be  set  at  work 
in  the  right  direction." 

Ellen  admitted  the  truth  of  this,  and  seemed  much  pleased 
with  the  thoughts  thus  presented. 

At  the  end  of  two  hours  Mrs.  Lindell  motioned  to  her 
son  that  her  patient  needed  rest,  and  he  arose  to  take  his 
leave.  Ellen  made  him  promise  that  he  would  come  again, 
and  then  she  bade  him  good-night. 


108  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEA  TER. 

For  some  time  after  Orion  had  gone  the  invalid  remained 
silent,  but  at  length  she  turned  towards  her  nurse,  and  in 
a  low,  earnest  tone  she  said  : 

"  You  must  be  proud  of  your  son." 

The  woman  started,  and  returned  the  maiden's  gaze. 

"I  am  proud  of  him,"  she  at  length  replied.  "  For  long 
year  she  has  been  my  only  stay — my  only  source  of  joy  and 
peace.  Never,  never,  did  a  word  of  complaint  drop  from 
his  lips,  and  to  me  he  never  gave  one  word  or  look  that 
was  not  born  of  love.  I  have  seen  him  deeply  tried — for 
seven  long  months  I  once  lay  sick  and  helpless — but  dur- 
ing all  that  time  he  had  but  one  look  for  me  :  it  was  one 
continuous  smile — one  genial  beaming  of  love,  and  one 
anxious,  grateful  prayer  for  my  good.  He  is  a  noble  boy, 
if  his  mother  does  say  it." 

"  And  such  a  noble  look?"  murmured  the  maiden,  with 
a  burning  eye.  "  I  never  saw  so  handsome  a  man  before." 

"  Perhaps  in  that  respect  I  may  only  look  upon  him 
with  a  mother's  prejudice,"  said  Mrs.  Lindell,  with  a  smile. 
"  We  are  apt  to  think  that  our  own  children  are  fair." 

"But  you  know\hak  your  child  is  fair." 

"  Why — I  will  tell  the  truth,  my  dear  girl,"  replied  the 
widow,  earnestly.  "  I  have  thought  him  handsome,  and  I 
have  often  candidly  asked  myself  if  a  part  of  his  manly 
beauty  did  not  lie  in  my  own  partiality.  I  have  wondered 
if  other  people  did  not  see  many  youths  every  day  whom 
they  thought  more  handsome." 

"  Then  let  me  assure  you  on  that  point,"  quickly  uttered 
the  maiden.  "  Among  all  the  members  of  the  other  sex 
with  whom  I  am  acquainted  I  think  him  the  handsomest 
one  I  ever  met.  There  is  no  feminine  beauty  there — no 
assumed  airs,  nor  outside  show  ;  but  a  calm,  dignified, 
noble,  manly  beauty — full  of  moral  power  and  courage,  and 
bearing,  even  to  the  casual  beholder,  the  assurance  of  a 
great  and  generous  soul.  Such  a  face  and  bearing  as  his 
could  not  be  the  companion  of  vice,  nor  the  veil  of  evil.  I 
— I — may  have  spoken  freely — perhaps  more  so  than  I 
ought — but  I  speak  to  one  in  whom  I  feel  that  I  can  repose 
the  fullest  confidence.  I  would  not  have  spoken  thus  to 
another." 

"  You  have  at  least  spoken  to  one  who  appreciates  what 
you  have  said,"returned  the  hostess  gratefully. 


CONVALESCENCE.— A   PLEASING  INTERVIEW.      109 

"  Has  he  ever  enjoyed  any  advantages  of  education  ?  " 
the  girl  asked,  honestly. 

"  He  has  grasped  them  from  his  spare  time.  Of  course 
he  has  not  had  the  advantages  which  many  have,  but  he 
has  accomplished  more  in  his  evening  studies  than  many 
accomplish  even  in  a  college.  He  has  many  friends  who 
give  him  the  free  use  of  their  libraries,  and  he  makes  good 
use  of  them.  He  reads  to  me  from  French  books  ;  and 
only  three  evenings  ago  Doctor  Stanley  got  him  to  translate 
a  Latin  sentence  for  him." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?"  uttered  Ellen,  in  surprise  ;  and  as  she 
spoke  she  seemed  not  quite  so  free  as  before,  though  the 
expression  upon  her  countenance  was  one  of  pleasure  and 
satisfaction. 

Shortly  after  this  the  girl  fell  asleep,  and  Mrs.  Lindell 
went  down-stairs.  She  found  Orion  in  the  parlor  reading. 
He  closed  his  book  as  she  entered,  and  having  arisen  and 
taken  one  or  two  turns  across  the  floor,  he  stopped  and  gazed 
into  his  mother's  face. 

"  Mother,"  he  said,  "  you  have  enjoyed  a  peculiar  pleasure 
in  Miss  Durand's  companionship." 

"  I  have,  certainly,  my  son." 

"  She  is  a  lovely  being,"  the  youth  continued,  earnestly, 
and  with  evident  pride  ;  "  and  she  must  have  a  mind  as  pure 
and  lovely  as  is  her  face." 

"  She  has  a  pure  mind,  I  know,"  said  the  widow,  with 
interest ;  "  for  no  other  mind  could  have  borne  the  suffer- 
ing which  she  has  borne  with  such  fortitude  and  resigna- 
tion. During  all  the  hours  of  pain  and  bodily  anguish  I 
have  seen  her  suffer,  she  has  only  seemed  grateful  that  she 
was  not  killed,  and  that  she  had  found  so  good  a  home 
during  her  helplessness." 

"  I  am  sure  she  is  the  most  beautiful  girl  I  ever  met 
with," resumed  Orion  :  "the  most  lovely  in  feature  and  in 
mind." 

Mrs.  Lindell  shook  her  head  to  herself  as  she  turned 
away,  for  there  was  something  peculiar  and  significant  in 
this  coincidence  of  opinion  between  her  patient  and  her 
son.  It  was  fortunate  that  she  said  nothing  to  him  of  what 
she  had  heard  from  Ellen's  lips,  for  he  had  as  much  on 
his  mind — perhaps  on  his  heart-^-now  as  fre  could  well 
dispose  of. 


HO  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

AN    ACCOMMODATING    ROBBER. 

ON  the  morning  after  the  funeral  of  her  husband,  Con- 
stance  Milmer  arose  and  dressed,  and  having  washed 
her  child,  she  got  together  such  articles  of  food  as  she 
had  at  hand,  and  then  sat  down  to  her  meal.  After  the  frugal 
repast  was  concluded  the  poor  woman  took  a  seat  upon  the 
old  chest,  and  bowed  her  head.  She  seemed  to  wander 
away  into  scenes  long  past,  for,  at  the  end  of  some  five  or 
ten  minutes,  when  she  raised  her  head  and  gazed  upon  the 
bed,  she  started  with  a  sudden  emotion,  as  though  she  had 
just  discovered  that  her  companion  was  gone  ! 

Oh  !  she  was  very  sad  and  lonesome,  thus  forsaken  in 
that  dismal  home  !  Even  though  her  husband  had  been 
for  long  months  as  helpless  as  an  infant,  yet  his  presence 
had  seemed  a  sort  of  protection,  because  it  kept  her  mind 
busy  from  fear.  But  now  she  thought  of  the  terrible  scenes 
by  whicn  she  was  surrounded,  and  wondered  if  the  thieves 
would  come  to  rob  her.  Instinctively  little  Lizzie  crept  to 
her  mother's  side  and  snuggled  closely  upon  her  bosom. 

"  Mamma,"  she  whispered,  in  a  low,  fearful  tone,  "when 
will  we  go  away  from  here  ? " 

"  As  soon  as  we  can,  my  dear,"  returned  the  widow, 
winding  her  arms  about  the  child. 

"  Can't  we  go  now  ? "  the  little  one  asked,  nervously,  at 
the  same  time  casting  her  eyes  timidly  towards  the  low, 
dingy  window.  "  I  don't  want  to  stay  here  any  longer.  Oh, 
why  can't  we  go  to  where  good  Mr.  Lindell  lives?  I 
should  like  to  live  there." 

"  We  shall  go  to-morrow,  Lizzie  ;  and  perhaps  Mr.  Lin- 
dell  will  find  us  a  good  home.  Don't  be  afraid.  No  one 
will  harm  us  now." 

"  Won't  they,  mamma  ? " 

"  No.     Why  do  you  ask  ? " 

"  Because — because — I  had  a  bad  dream." 

"And  what  did  you  dream?"  asked  the  mother,  hiding 
her  face  upon  her  child's  shoulder. 

"  Oh— I  can't  tell  you.  But  it  was  about  that  wicked  man 
that  Mr.  Lindell  whipped." 


AN  ACCOMMODATING  ROBBER.  HI 

"You  shouldn't  think  of  such  things,  Lizzie,"  said  the 
poor  woman,  but  even  as  she  spoke  she  shuddered  fear- 
fully, and  her  look  showed  that  she  was  far  from  being 
easy. 

"  Then  I  won't,  mamma,"  cried  the  affectionate  girl,  at 
the  same  time  throwing  her  arms  about  her  parent's  neck. 
"  I  won't  say  any  thing  that  can  make  you  feel  bad  ;  but  it 
was  a  very  ugly  dream — and  that  naughty  man,  Duffy 
Glicker,  looked  so  dreadful,  too.  Oh  !  I  wish  I  hadn't 
dreamed  such  a  dream,  for  then  I  mightn't  have  been 
afraid  to  stop  here." 

"  Never  mind  the  dream,  "Lizzie.  I  wouldn't  talk  about 
it  any  more." 

"  Why — does  it  frighten  you,  mamma  ? " 
"  It  doesn't  frighten  me,  Lizzie  ;  but  I  don't  like  to  see 
you  so  fearful." 

"  Well — I  won't  say  any  thing  more  about  it." 
A  while  longer  the  mother  and  child  sat  there  together, 
and  they  had  just  arisen,  and  the  former  was  upon  the  point 
of  opening  her  chest,  when  a  shuffling,  unsteady  step  was 
heard  in  the  dark  passage,  and  in  a  few  moments  more  a 
scratching  sound  followed,  as  though  some  one  was  search- 
ing for  the  latch.  The  door  was  soon  opened,  and  an  old 
hag,  who  had  previously  occupied  one  of  the  adjoining 
apartments,  entered.  She  was  past  the  middle  age  of  life  ; 
all  bloated  and  disfigured  with  rum  ;  with  features  dark, 
dirty,  and  repulsive  ;  looking  for  all  the  world  like  a  ghoul 
just  from  some  graveyard,  where  it  had  been  digging  up  its 
horrid  repast !  She  had  not  been  in  the  room  a  minute 
before  the  atmosphere  was  thoroughly  impregnated  with 
the  rank  fumes  of  gin  from  the  ghoul's  breath  !  The  fright- 
ful being  took  a  seat  upon  the  only  chair  in  the  room,  and 
then  gazed  around  upon  everything  she  could  see,  her  ugly, 
misshapen  body  keeping  a  swaying,  drunken  motion  all  the 
while. 

Constance  Milmer  had  seen  the  hag  before,  and  had  won- 
dered if  she  were  ever  a  maiden  like  other  maidens,  and 
she  had  never  seen  her  but  with  a  shudder.  On  the  pres- 
ent occasion  she  gazed  upon  the  intruder  with  a  strange 
feeling  of  fear  and  dread,  for  there  was  such  a  perfect 
diabolism  in  her  every  look  and  form  and  feature,  that  her 
presence  could  bode  nothing  but  evil. 


H2  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

"  Ah-ya-ya,"  cried  the  hag,  in  a  hoarse,  munching  tone, 
at  the  same  time  increasing  the  swaying  of  her  ungainly 
body.  "  Ye've  been  left  desolate,  hain't  ye  ? " 

"  We  have,"  returned  the  poor  widow,  in  a  faint,  quiver- 
ing tone. 

"  Ya-a-as — so  ye  have.  Yer  man's  dead  an'  buried,  I 
know.  I  s'pose  they  put  him  in  the  ground  where  ye'll 
never  see  him  again.  Pooh — don't  cry  'bout  it.  That 
won't  do  no  good.  There,  now — don't.  I've  come  to  do 
ye  a  kind  turn.  Jest  mind  that,  an'  stop  yer  cryin'. 
What's  the  use  ? " 

The  coarse  allusion  to  her  husband  had  caused  the  flood 
up  from  the  widow's  soul ;  but  at  the  mention  of  a  kind 
turn  she  looked  up,  and  tried  to  wipe  her  tears  away. 

"Ye've  got  a  buteful  leetle  girl  here — I  s'pose  she's 
yourn?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Constance,  at  the  same  time  instinctively 
winding  her  arms  about  the  child  as  she  saw  the  gaze  of 
the  ghoul  fixed  upon  it. 

"  I  thought  so.  Now,  ye  must  have  a  hard  time  to  fetch 
up  the  leetle  thing.  I'll  take  it.  Ya-ah-ah— I'll  take  it 
and  make  a  fine  leddy  of  it.  Give  me  the  girl,  an'  I'll  put 
fine  close  onto  her,  and  make  her  nice." 

"  Oh  !  no,  no  !  "  cried  the  mother,  as  she  clasped  the 
little  one  more  closely  to  her  bosom.  "  I  could  not  give 
her  up." 

"  But  only  think,*'  urged  the  hag,  her  bleared  and  blood- 
streaked  eyes  gleaming  fearfully  upon  the  child,  "  what's 
the  use  of  your  takin'  the  poor  leetle  thing  all  over  the  hard 
world  with  yourself  ?  Give  her  to  me,  an'  I'll  make  a  leddy 
of  her.  My  own,  dear  Kate  is  gone.  She  run  off  an' 
drowned  herself  in  a  fit  of  ugliness.  They  said  she  had 
the  deliric  trem'les,  but  she  didn't.  She  was  ugly — that  is 
what  she  was.  You  wouldn't  be  ugly,  would  ye,  dear? 
Here — come  here  an'  see  me.  Come — I'll  whisper  some- 
thin'  pooty  in  yer  ear." 

As  the  beldam  thus  spoke  she  reached  out  her  great, 
dirty  hands,  and  blinked  horridly  at  the  child.  Little  Liz- 
zie uttered  a  low  cry  of  fear,  and  hid  her  face  in  her  moth- 
er's bosom. 

"  Oh  !  don't  let  her  get  me  !  Mamma — mamma — don't, 
oh,  don't  let  her  get  me  !  " 


AN  A  CCO  M MOD  A  TING  ROBBER.  1 1 3 

"  What — the  pooty  leetle  thing  aren't  afeared  of  me,  is 
she  ?  "  grumbled  the  hag. 

«  she's — she's— a — frightened  easily  since  her  fathel 
died,"  explained  poor  Constance,  trembling  like  an  aspen. 

«  oho — she  oughtn't  to  be  skeered  of  good  folks.  But 
never  mind.  If  she  knowed  what  a  nice,  pooty  leddy  I'd 
make  of  her  she'd  come  to  me  right  off,  an'  put  her  leetle 
arms  right  around  my  neck.  You'd  better  let  me  have  her." 

"  Oh  !  don't  ask  me  !  "  uttered  the  mother.  "  It  would 
kill  me  to  part  with  her." 

«  Well — never  mind  now.  P'r'aps  arter  you've  been  all 
'round,  an'  can't  find  no  home,  ye'll  be  glad  to  let  me  take 
her  an'  keep  her  a  leetle  while." 

As  the  ghoul  said  this  she  cast  her  eyes  once  more  over 
the  room,  and  finally  she  took  a  pistol  from  a  pocket  in  her 
dirty,  tattered  gown.  It  was  a  common-sized  pocket  pistol, 
with  a  single  barrel,  and  seemed  to  be  in  perfect  order. 

"  D'  ye  ever  see  a  pistle  ? "  the  horrid  being  asked,  as 
she  held  it  in  the  palm  of  her  hand  so  that  the  widow 
might  see  that  it  was  a  bona  fide  weapon. 

"  Ye-e-s,"  whispered  Constance,  now  really  frightened, 
for  the  fear  shot  through  her  mind  that  the  hag  might  be 
crazy. 

"  D'  ye  ever  see  how  one  of  'em  was  fired  ?  "  she  con- 
tinued, at  the  same  time  grasping  the  pistol  by  the  butt,  and 
raising  the  hammer,  thus  revealing  the  bright  yellow  cap. 
"  Yer  see  me  pull  this  thing  back  so.  D'  ye  mind  that 
little  click — click  ?  That's  because  it's  cocked.  Now,  ye 
see,  'twould  be  jest  as  easy  to  kill  ye  as  'twould  to  pull  this 
leetle  thing  under  here  :  that's  the  trigger." 

"  Oh — mercy  !  "  gasped  Constance,  pale  and  trembling, 
and  convulsively  raising  her  hand  as  though  she  would 
ward  off  the  ball.  "  Don't  point  it  at  me  !  Oh — don't !  " 

"  Don't  be  afeard.  Sure,  it's  loaded — an'  it's  got  two 
lead  bullets  into  it — an'  lots  of  powder  ;  but  I  shan't  shoot 
it  off.  Only  if  ye  was  to  tetch  me,  now  ;  or  frighten  me 
by  hollering,  an'  makin'  a  noise,  I  might  forget  myself  an' 
shoot  ye  dead  afore  I  thought.  This  very  pistle  has  killed 
seven  men  !  Only  think  of  it,  now.  Seven  men  !  You 
wouldn't  want  to  be  killed  by  it,  I  know.  Of  course  ye 
wouldn't.  Seven  men  !  My  eyes,  what  a  horrid  thing  it 
must  be  to  be  killed  with  a  pistle  !  " 


H4  ORION,  THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

While  speaking  thus,  in  a  mumbling,  half-threatening 
tone,  her  body  was  swaying  to  and  fro  as  before,  and  her 
eyes  were  glaring  about  the  room.  Keeping  her  pistol  in 
her  hand,  and  pointed  towards  Constance,  she  arose  from 
her  chair  and  moved  towards  the  old  chest,  upon  which 
the  hostess  sat. 

"  Won't  ye  jest  let  me  take  a  peep  into  that  chist,  my 
darlin'  ?  Don't  be  afeared  ;  I  know  this  pistol  is  a  dreff ul 
dangerous  thing,  but  I'll  be  keerful." 

The  poor  woman  dared  not  disobey.  She  arose  from  the 
chest,  and,  pale  and  trembling,  shrank  away  to  the  opposite 
side  of  the  room.  The  hag  proceeded  to  open  the  chest, 
and  while  she  overhauled  the  things  she  found  therein  she 
kept  up  a  sort  of  low,  munching  soliloquy.  There  were 
several  articles  of  children's  clothing,  and  some  few  pieces 
of  fine  linen,  which  the  fond  mother  had  kept  for  her  child. 
Then  there  were  a  few  articles  which  had  belonged  to  her 
husband.  There  was  a  razor,  a  strop,  a  good  brush,  a  pair 
of  silk  kerchiefs,  and  a  number  of  little  things  of  no  ac- 
count save  as  mementos. 

"  Yer  a-goin'  to  move  these  things,  arn't  ye  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  gasped  the  frightened  woman. 

"  Then  I'll  help  ye  pack  'em  up." 

"  No — no  ;  I  won't  trouble  you,"  uttered  Constance 
spasmodically.  "  I  can  do  it  very  well." 

"  No — but  I  come  to  help  ye  ;  an'  I  can't  go  away  now 
without  doin'  somethin'.  Here — one  o'  these  sheets  'ill  be 
jest  the  thing  to  pack  up  some  of  'em  in." 

As  she  thus  spoke  the  beldam  pulled  off  both  the  sheets 
from  the  bed,  and,  having  spread  them  out  the  whole  size, 
she  proceeded  to  place  upon  them  the  various  articles  of 
use  which  she  had  found  in  the  chest.  She  took  all  the 
linen — the  shaving  tools,  and  the  brush — the  best  of  the 
other  garments — and  all  the  little  things  that  could  possi- 
bly be  turned  into  money.  After  she  had  emptied  the 
chest  of  all  she  seemed  to  fancy  she  arose  and  went  to  the 
narrow  shelf  over  the  little  fire-place. 

"  Now,  this  flat-iron  'ill  jest  balance  in  there,"  she  said, 
as  she  took  it  down  and  placed  it  with  the  other  things  on 
the  sheets.  "  An'  this  pair  o'  candlesticks,  too.  An'  this 
leetle  thing,"  she  added,  taking  down  a  small  wine-glass, 


AN  ACCOMMODATING  ROBBER.  US 

in  which  there  was  a  silver  spoon.  This  spoon  she  took 
with  a  sudden  convulsion  of  face  and  frame. 

"  Why — it's  rale  siller,  ain't  it  ?  "  she  cried,  biting  it  with 
her  teeth.  "  Well,  now,  I  didn't  expect  this.  Howsumever, 
it  'ill  be  all  safe  in  with  the  rest  of  'em." 

After  this  she  took  down  the  small  looking-glass  which 
hung  near  the  window,  and  then  stopped.  Having  looked 
all  over  the  room  several  times,  she  proceeded  to  tie  up  the 
bundle  she  had  got  packed  away.  Having  done  this,  she 
sat  down  on  the  chair  again  and  commenced  to  toy  with 
the  pistol. 

"  My  dear,  good  woman,"  she  said,  "  haven't  ye  got  some 
money !  " 

Constance  started  as  she  heard  this  question,  for  she  be- 
came convinced  now  that  the  hag  meant  to  rob  her.  She 
would  have  fled  into  the  street  for  help,  but  the  pistol  was 
pointed  very  nearly  towards  her,  and  she  feared  the  woman 
might  fire  it. 

"  I  have  nothing  more,"  she  gasped,  shaking  at  every 
joint  like  one  with  a  severe  ague. 

"  But  ye  must  have  a  leetle  money,  my  deary.  Only 
a  very  leetle.  Jest  let  me  see  how  much  ye've  got. 
Come." 

The  widow  hesitated,  for  she  knew  not  how  to  answer. 
She  could  not  think  of  giving  up  her  money,  and  yet  she 
feared  the  dread  presence  before  her.  Instinctively  she 
cast  her  eyes  towards  the  head  of  the  bed,  and  quick  as 
thought  the  gaze  of  the  beldam  turned  in  the  same  direc- 
tion. The  latter's  perception  was  quick,  and  she  read  in 
an  instant  the  meaning  of  the  uneasy  look  upon  the  face 
of  her  hostess.  She  started  up  and  hastened  to  the  point 
towards  which  that  look  had  been  directed.  Constance 
saw  the  movement,  and,  under  the  impulse  of  the  moment, 
she  sprang  forward  and  grasped  a  small  box  which  had 
been  concealed  beneath  the  straw  bed. 

"  Don't  do  that,"  uttered  the  beldam,  at  the  same  time 
seizing  the  box  and  snatching  it  away.  "  Can't  ye  jest  let 
me  look  at  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  don't  take  it  away  from  me  ! "  cried  the  poor 
woman  in  frantic  tones.  "  Let  me  keep  this — let  me  keep 
this  !  " 

"  Jest  you  stand  back  an'  let  me  look  into  it."     As  the 


n6  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

hag  thus  spoke  she  pointed  the  pistol  towards  the  widowl 
and  as  the  latter  shrank  back  she  added  : 

"  Now,  don't  make  a  noise,  'cause  I  might  forget  that 
this  pistle  was  loaded  with  two  bullets  and  lots  of  powder, 
an'  snap  it  at  ye.  Only  think  how  drefful  'twould  be  !  " 

Thus  speaking  she  opened  the  box,  the  key  being  in  the 
lock,  and  her  eyes  snapped  as  she  saw  two  bank-notes  and 
some  silver.  There  was  a  dollar  bill,  a  two-dollar  bill,  and 
nearly  a  dollar  in  change. 

"  Ah-ya-ya-yah  !  "  the  beldam  uttered.  "  Now,  this  is 
nice.  If  I  had  some  paper,  and  a  pen  and  some  ink,  I'd 
write  ye  a  noat — a  noat,  ye  know,  what  promises  to  pay — 
'cause  I  want  to  borry  this.  P'r'aps  I  shan't  be  able  to  pay 
ye  back  afore  next  week.  But  then  it  don't  make  no  odds 
'bout  the  noat,  'cause  my  word  is  jest  as  good,  every  grain 
an'  bit.  I'll  take  it  right  in  the  box,  an'  then,  ye  see,  when 
I  bring  it  back  I  ken  fetch  box  an'  all." 

She  crowded  the  box  into  the  bundle  without  untying  it, 
and  then  running  her  arm  through  the  handle  formed  by 
the  knotted  corners,  she  raised  it  up  and  moved  a  step 
towards  the  door.  Then  she  turned,  and  while  a  look  of 
horrid  triumph  dwelt  upon  her  coarse  face,  she  said  : 

"  Only  think  : — Seven  men  ! — all  killed  dead  with  this  ere 
pistle.  Mustn't  it  have  been  drefful  ?  But  then  there  ain't 
no  danger  to  them  as  don't  make  no  noise,  nor  holler  out, 
nor  nothin'  of  that  sort.  Now  I  know  you'd  jest  as  lives 
lend  me  these  things  are  not.  I  don't  want  to  borry  them 
for  only  a  week,  and  when  the  week's  up  ye  can  come  an' 
git  'em.  I'm  a-goin'  to  move  pooty  soon,  but  I'll  put  a 
notis  in  the  papers  so't  you'll  know  where  to  find  me." 

Thus  speaking,  she  moved  nearer  to  the  door,  but  as  she 
reached  it,  and  pulled  it  partly  open,  she  turned  and 
added: 

"  There's  one  thing  I  came  nigh  forgettin'  to  tell  ye  :  I 
ain't  a-goin'  right  away.  I'm  goin'  to  stop  in  Bun  Foley's 
roo:n  a  little  while,  so't  'f  you  should  happen  out  pooty  soon 
I  might  show  ye  which  way  you'd  better  go.  What  a  drefful 
thing  it  must  be  to  be  killed  dead  with  a  pistle  !  Only  think 
— one  don't  have  time  hardly  to  think.  If  you  should  die 
d'ye  s'pose  you'd  go  to  where  yer  husband  is  ?  " 

"  I  hope  so,"  uttered  Constance,  instinctively. 

"  Then  say — I've  jest  thought  of  a  plan.     With  this  pis- 


A  CCOMMODA  TING  ROBBER.  1 1 7 

tie  I  could  send  you  arter  him  quick  as  wink.  Now  if 
you're  tired  of  life,  and  would  take  it  as  a  good  turn  to  be 
sent  into  t'other  world,  ye  can  let  me  know  without  speakin' 
a  word.  Jest  come  out  into  the  passage  any  time  within 
half  an  hour,  and  I  shall  take  it  as  a  sign  that  ye  want  to 
die.  My  poor  dear  gal  had  to  kill  herself,  but  you  shan't 
be  put  to  that  drefful  strait.  I  should  feel  kind  o'  bad  to 
do  it  for  ye,  but  if  ye  will  have  it  so,  why,  I  shouldn't  mind 
it.  Ye'll  remember  the  sign  :  only  jest  right  out  into  the 
passage— -in  half  an  hour — 'twouldn't  be  no  use  arter  that, 
'cause  I'll  be  gone  ! " 

With  these  words  the  beldam  passed  out  and  closed  the 
door,  and  ere  long  the  sound  of  her  steps  was  lost  in  the 
distance. 

"  Mamma — mamma — " 

"  What,  Lizzie  ?  " 

"Won't  she  bring  back  my  clothes  ?  " 

"  Never  again  !  " 

"  What — will  she  keep  'em  always  ?  Won't  she  bring 
back  your  money  ? " 

"  No,  no.     She  has  robbed  us  !  " 

"  Robbed  us  ?  "  repeated  the  child,  gazing  up  with  a 
frightened  look.  "  Oh  !  you  won't  go  out  into  the  passage, 
will  you  ?  You  don't  want  to  go  to  papa,  and  leave  poor 
little  Lizzie  all  alone,  do  you  ? " 

The  mother  caught  the  child  to  her  arms,  and  burst  into 
tears,  and  when  she  could  command  herself  sufficiently  to 
speak,  she  uttered: 

"  No,  no,  darling  ;  mamma  won't  leave  you.  Don't  cry 
any  more.  The  naughty,  wicked  woman  may  take  what 
she  has  got,  for  sbe  will  not  be  happy.  She  must  be  very 
miserable.  She  has  been  a  sad,  wretched  sinner  for  a  great 
while,  and  only  see  how  miserable  she  is  now." 

The  child  shuddered  at  the  thought,  and  clung  more 
closely  to  her  mother's  bosom.  They  were  both  trying  to 
speak  words  of  comfort,  and  yet  both  were  weeping  pro- 
fusely. 


Ii8  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

CHAPTER  XV. 

THE      ABDUCTION. 

IT  was  not  until  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  that  Constance 
Milmer  dared  to  venture  out.  She  was  not  a  coward,  but 

the  long  months  of  suffering  she  had  passed,  and  the 
toil  she  had  undergone,  had  seemed  to  shatter  her  nervous 
system,  and  slight  causes,  which  would  once  have  only 
nerved  her  up  to  action,  now  startled  her  heart  into  a  fierce 
palpitation,  and  unnerved  her  completely.  She  knew  that 
the  woman  who  had  so  boldly  robbed  her  was  a  reckless, 
depraved  being,  and  long  indulgence  at  the  gin-bottle  might 
have  so  far  undermined  her  reason  that  she  would  not 
hesitate  to  shoot  one  whom  she  thought  was  going  to  betray 
her.  But  at  three  o'clock  the  poor  widow  went  out, 
taking  Lizzie  with  her,  for  she  dared  not  leave  her  child 
behind. 

She  went  directly  across  to  the  Mission,  where  she  found 
the  missionary,  and  told  her  story.  She  only  wanted  a  little 
food.  The  good  man  would  have  given  her  what  she  said 
she  needed,  but  she  only  wanted  food  enough  to  last  her 
till  the  morrow.  She  told  the  principal  that  her  friend 
would  come  then,  and  she  hoped  he  would  have  a  good 
place  for  her.  Having  assured  himself  that  the  applicant 
needed  for  the  present  nothing  but  food,  the  missionary 
sent  for  one  of  the  attendants,  who  soon  brought  a  couple 
of  loaves  of  bread,  some  butter,  some  milk,  and  a  few  slices 
of  cold  meat.  All  save  the  milk  she  could  carry  in  a  paper, 
and  for  that  they  lent  her  a  small  pitcher,  which  she 
promised  to  return  in  the  morning. 

"  Don't  you  know  the  name  of  the  woman  who  robbed 
you  ? "  asked  the  gentleman,  while  Lizzie  was  taking  a  sip 
of  the  milk. 

"  No,  sir,"  returned  Constance.  "  I  have  seen  her.  She 
used  to  keep  the  dreadful  place  in  the  two  rooms  just  at 
the  head  of  the  stairs  where  I  live.  She  is  the  one  who 
came  near  killing  the  poor  little  girl  that  ran  away  from  her 
last  winter." 

"O,  yes,  I  know  now,"  said  the  missionary.  "She  has 
gone  by  the  name  of  Santa  Snuggins.  I  have  seen  her 


THE   ABDUCTION.  119 

prowling  about  here  several  times  lately.  I  will  keep  my 
eyes  upon  her." 

When  the  poor  widow  and  her  child  reached  their  desolate 
home  they  ate  a  hasty  meal,  and  then  they  went  at  work  to 
pack  up  what  few  things  they  had  left.  The  work  was  not 
a  tedious  one,  and  all  was  ready  before  dark.  As  the  shades 
of  night  began  to  gather  prematurely  about  the  dismal  place 
Constance  wished  that  she  had  asked  the  folks  at  the  Mis- 
sion to  let  her  remain  there  over  night.  She  was  sure  they 
would  have  readily  consented  had  she  asked  the  question, 
and  she  almost  blamed  herself  for  having  neglected  to  do  it. 

And  then  little  Lizzie  seemed  afraid  to  remain  another 
night  in  the  fearful  place.  She  feared  she  should  have  some 
more  horrid  dreams. 

"  Never  mind  for  that/'  said  her  mother,  drawing  her  upon 
her  bosom.  "  If  nothing  worse  than  that  happens  we  shall 
be  very  fortunate,  for  after  to-night  we  shan't  have  to  stay 
here  any  more." 

Still  the  woman  was  not  so  well  satisfied  as  she  tried  to 
make  her  child  believe.  She  had  a  strong  mind  to  go  over 
to  the  Mission  and  try  to  get  lodgings  there.  Bnt  she  put 
it  off  too  long.  She  took  too  much  time  for  consideration. 
Night  came  on,  and  it  came  quickly,  too.  Constance  had 
fairly  thrown  on  her  shawl  and  hood  to  go  out,  and  was 
upon  the  point  of  tying  on  Lizzie's  little  hat,  when  there 
came  a  blaze  of  light  in  at  the  window  that  almost  blinded 
them  for  the  moment.  A  quick  cry  of  alarm  escaped  from 
the  child's  lips,  and  just  then  a  clap  of  thunder  came  that 
made  the  old  house  tremble  from  roof  to  cellar. 

Constance  started  up  to  close  the  window,  for  the  wind 
had  suddenly  arisen,  and  came  driving  around  the  corners 
of  the  adjoining  houses  with  cold,  ungrateful  power.  She 
had  hardly  closed  the  window  when  the  rain  began  to  fall 
in  great  drops,  and  pretty  soon  the  lightning  came  again. 

"  Must  we  stay  now  ?  "  the  child  asked. 

"I  guess  we  had  better,"  returned  the  mother.  "It  is 
very  dark  and  stormy,  and  the  Mission  may  be  shut  up." 

"  But  I  should  think  they  would  keep  it  open  more  when 
it  stormed,"  argued  Lizzie' 

"  Perhaps  they  do,"  admitted  Constance.  "  But  still  we 
had  better  stay  here.  We  shan't  be  troubled  on  such  a 
night.  You  know  there  are  sometimes  very  wicked  men  in 


120  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

the  streets,  and  they  ain't  afraid  of  rain  when  they  wish  to 
do  any  wicked  work.  We  will  stay  here  to-night,  darling/' 

As  soon  as  the  child  was  made  to  realize  that  there  might 
be  danger  to  her  mother  in  venturing  out  she  said  nothing 
more  against  staying. 

The  lightning  continued  to  flash  at  regular  intervals,  and 
the  loud  thunder  came  crashing  down  with  quaking  power. 
The  rain  pattered  heavily  upon  the  roof — for  there  was  no 
room  above  the  one  the  widow  occupied,  it  being  in  the 
upper  story  of  what  had  originally  been  built  for  a  shed — 
so  the  great  drops  sounded  very  plainly  as  they  fell,  and 
the  music  was  ghostly  and  dirge-like. 

Ere  long  the  mother  and  child  were  forced  to  get  upon 
the  bed,  for  the  roof  leaked  badly,  and  in  all  other  places 
the  water  came  dripping  down  till  it  formed  heavy  pools, 
and  then  ran  off  in  streams  towards  the  fire-place,  and  into 
the  holes  in  the  floor.  There  was  one  small  piece  of  candle 
left,  and  having  lighted  it  they  set  it  up  in  the  mouth  of  a 
black  bottle  which  stood  upon  the  floor,  and  then  the  poor 
woman  got  her  little  worn  Bible  and  sat  down  to  read. 

A  distant  clock  struck  the  hour  of  nine  as  Constance 
closed  the  good  book,  and  she  had  taken  Lizzie  upon  her 
lap  to  pray  with,  her,  when  they  were  both  startled  by  hear- 
ing a  heavy  footfall  in  the  passage.  They  listened,  and  it 
approached  the  door ! 

"  Suppose  it  should  be  that  wicked  man  !  "  whispered  the 
child,  fearfully. 

The  mother  could  not  reply.  The  same  thought  had 
come  to  her  own  mind,  and  it  filled  her  soul  with  terror. 

"  Blow  out  the  light,  and  perhaps  he  won't  know  we  are 
here,"  suggested  Lizzie. 

Quick  as  thought  the  widow  did  so,  and  then  clasping 
her  child  closely  to  her  bosom  she  awaited  the  result. 

It  was  soon  evident  that  there  were  two  men  instead  of 
one,  and  that  they  were  coming  towards  the  door. 

"  Oh  !  they  have  a  light !  "  the  mother  whispered,  as  she 
saw  the  beams  through  a  chink  of  the  door  before  which 
they  had  stopped. 

Hardly  had  she  spoken  when  a  heavy  hand  was  laid  upon 
the  latch  ;  but  the  door  was  fastened  upon  the  inside. 

"  Hallo,  there  !  "  cried  a  voice,  which  was  at  once  recog- 
a?  Puffy  Glicker's?  "  Let's  come  in  ! " 


THE  ABDUCTION.  121 

But  Constance  made  no  reply. 

"  Let's  come  in,  I  say,"  repeated  the  voice.  "  Hallo  ! 
Don't  ye  hear  me  ? " 

This  last  call  was  accompanied  by  a  heavy  kicking  upon 
the  door,  and  for  a  few  moments  afterwards  all  was  still. 
The  woman's  heart  beat  fearfully,  even  so  that  the  child, 
whose  head  lay  upon  it,  could  feel  it. 

"  Now  say — there's  no  use  o'  this  !  "  cried  the  applicant. 
"  We  know  you're  in  there,  'cause  ye've  been  watched.  I 
seed  ye  come  over  from  the  hypocrite's  mission,  and  I  know 
ye're  here.  So  just  open  the  door,  or  we'll  break  it  down 
for  ye  !  Come  !  " 

Constance  moved,  but  she  did  not  arise.  If  she  had  been 
seen  to  enter — and  from  the  fact  that  Glicker  knew  she  had 
been  over  to  the  Mission  she  knew  that  he  must  have  seen 
her — then  she  had  little  hope  of  escape.  Yet  she  could  not 
speak,  nor  would  she  let  her  persecutor  in. 

"  Once  more — will  ye  open  the  door  ? " 

A  few  moments  the  applicants  waited,  and  then  they 
applied  their  strength  to  the  door.  But  it  needed  no  great 
force  to  accomplish  their  purpose,  for  the  only  fastening 
was  a  wooden  button,  which  flew  off  at  the  first  pressure 
they  brought  to  bear  upon  it,  and  on  the  next  moment 
Glicker  came  tumbling  into  the  room,  the  momentum  of  his 
body  having  not  been  more  than  half  overcome  by  the 
resistance  of  the  door.  But  he  managed  to  regain  his 
equilibrium  without  falling  or  losing  his  lantern.  He  was 
quickly  followed  by  Bill  Slumpkey,  who  closed  the  door 
behind  him. 

Poor  Constance  !  She  gazed  up  into  the  dark  features 
of  the  bad  man,  and  then  instinctively  covered  her  face 
with  her  hands. 

"  So  I've  come  back,  ye  see,"  uttered  Glicker,  holding  out 
his  lantern  so  as  to  throw  the  light  upon  her  face.  "  Your 
good  kind  friend  didn't  make  much,  only  to  get  us  placed 
under  bonds  to  keep  the  peace,  and  to  lay  up  a  pretty  pickle 
for  himself.  I've  been  a-watchin'  of  ye,  my  dear,  and  now 
I've  come  to  give  ye  a  good  comfortable  home." 

"  You  will  not  take  me  from  here,  sir  !  "  the  widow  cried, 
gazing  up  with  her  hands  clasped. 

"  Why — what  a  creetur  for  choice  you  must  be,"  returned 


122  ORION,  THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

the  villain,  with  a  low,  grating  laugh.  "  D'ye  mean  that 
you'd  rather  stay  here?" 

"  I  did  not  mean  that.  I  wouldn't  stay  here  always.  I 
can  find  a  good  home  somewhere.  Oh  !  in  Heaven's  name, 
sir,  I  pray  you  let  me  alone  !  I  can  not  go  with  you." 

"  Oh,  but  you  must.  I've  been  and  got  a  place  all  fixed 
for  ye  ;  and  'twould  be  a  great  disappointment  not  to  have 
ye  come.  I  know'd  yer  husband  was  dead — poor  man  !  I 
pity  him  for  having  to  leave  such  a  pooty  wife,  and  I  held 
myself  off  till  ye'd  have  time  to  git  kind  o'  calmed  down 
like.  But  now  I've  come,  and  you  must  go  with  me.  Come 
— git  ready  as  soon  as  you  can." 

"  But  you  would  not  force  me  out  into  such  a  storm  as 
this,  sir,"  urged  the  woman. 

"  Ha — there  ye're  miscalkerlated  my  natur,  my  dear. 
Now  jest  see  what  a  tender  set  o'  feelins  I've  got.  I've 
fetched  a  coach  for  ye.  What  d'ye  think  o'  that  ?  Come — 
now  be  kind,  and  don't  make  any  more  fuss." 

What  could  poor  Constance  do  ?  In  the  morning  Orion 
Lindell  would  be  there,  and  from  that  time,  could  she  reach 
it  unharmed,  she  would  be  safe.  Oh  !  why  had  she  not 
stopped  at  the  Mission  !  Had  she  remained  there,  as  she 
might  have  done,  this  dread  meeting  would  have  been 
escaped  !  Only  a  few  short  hours  between  this  and  morn- 
ing— between  the  storm  and  the  haven,  and  yet  the  evil  had 
come  !  Oh  !  could  she  but  gain  those  few  hours — could 
she  but  put  off  her  enemy  until  the  morning — she  might  yet 
be  saved. 

"  Duffy  Glicker,"  she  cried,  in  a  wild,  beseeching  tone, 
"  let  me  be  here  till  morning.  Do  not  force  me  away 
to-night !  A  few  hours  can  make  no  difference  !  " 

"  And  what  difference  can  that  make  to  you  ?  "  quickly 
retorted  the  villain,  with  a  peculiar  twist  of  the  face.  "  My 
— just  look  at  this  floor.  The  rain  comes  in  here  like  a 
deluge.  Of  course  you  wouldn't  want  to  stay  here.  'T 
wouldn't  be  safe.  You'd  ketch  cold.  Come — don't  bother 
any  more,  for  the  horses  are  standin'  in  the  rain." 

"  Why  don't  you  take  her  up  an'  fetch  her  along  ?  "  inter- 
posed Slumpkey,  in  a  gruff,  ugly  tone. 

"  I  shall  just  do  that  thing  if  she  don't  move  pooty  soon," 
responded  Glicker.  And  then  turning  to  the  woman,  he 
added,  "  Now,  come,  or  you'll  be  helped.  I  can  be  decent 


THE  ABDUCTION.  123 

to  a  woman  ;  but  I  can't  stand  everything.  Put  on  yer  togs 
as  soon  as  ye  can.  That's  all  I've  got  to  say  !  " 

Constance  Milmer  arose  to  her  feet  and  moved  to  where 
her  hood  and  shawl  were  hanging.  She  took  them  down, 
but  she  hesitated  about  putting  them  on.  Her  hands 
trembled,  and  the  emotion  sent  the  quiver  through  her 
whole  frame. 

"  Duffy  Glicker,"  she  said,  turning  to  the  dark  man,  and 
speaking  as  though  she  was  making  her  last  effort,  "  Why 
do  you  hunt  me  thus  ?  Why  is  it  that  you  would  carry  me 
away  ?  What  purpose  can  you  have  ?  " 

"  Never  you  mind  that  now,  my  dear.  Just  git  ready 
and  come  along,  and  at  a  proper  time  you  shall  know  all 
about  it." 

"  But  tell  me,  sir — oh  !  you  have  some  purpose — you 
want  some  concession  from  me.  Let  me  know  what,  and  I 
may  yield  at  once,  and  then  you  can  go  your  way,  and  let 
me  go  mine." 

"  Pooh !  You  don't  know  nothin'  'bout  it,  woman. 
You've  got  to  go  with  me,  and  the  sooner  you  git  ready  the 
quicker  you'll  be  over  it."  Thus  far  the  man  spoke  in  a 
calm,  half-joking  tone,  but  here  a  change  came  over  his 
countenance.  He  assumed  a  look  of  fearful  import,  and  in 
a  hissing  tone  he  added.  "  Now  jest  look  here  :  Will  ye  be 
carried  down,  or  will  ye  walk  ?  Will  ye  go  quietly,  or  will 
ye  be  gagged  ?  Will  ye  behave  yourself,  or  will  you  have 
some  ruffles  put  on  your  wrists  ?  Now  ye  have  it,  plain, 
plump,  and  square  ;  and  ye'll  have  jest  one  minute  to  make 
up  your  mind  in  !  " 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  man's  meaning  now.  Even 
little  Lizzie  seemed  to  realize  its  full  import,  for  she  crept  to 
her  mother's  side,  and  in  a  low  spasmodic  tone  she  uttered  : 

"  Don't  let  him  hurt  you,  mamma  !  " 

Constance  understood  it,  and  her  resolution  was  taken 
from  that  moment.  She  would  go  with  him  where  he 
wished — she  would  obey  him  while  he  had  the  power  to 
enforce  ;  but  when  it  should  come  to  a  point  beyond  that, 
then  she  would  turn  to  her  God  and  give  to  him  alone  her 
life  and  her  honor  ! 

As  this  resolution  came  to  her  soul  she  grew  calm  and 
collected.  With  a  steady  hand  she  put  on  her  shawl  and 
hood,  and  then  turned  to  her  persecutor. 


124  ORION,    THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

1 1  am  ready,"  she  said. 

<  And  ye'll  go  nice  and  quietsome,  will  yer  ? " 
*I  will  go  with  you,  sir  !" 

'  But  ye  won't  holler  ? " 

<  I  shall  not,  sir  !  " 

*  Now  ye  talk.  Come,  my  little  dear,"  he  continued, 
turning  to  Lizzie,  "  Ye'll  have  a  good  home  now.  This 
man  '11  carry  ye  in  his  arms  all  nice  and  snug." 

"  But  you  won't  take  me  away  from  my  mamma,"  the 
child  cried,  in  terror. 

"  In  course  we  won't,  ye  little  scarecrow,  yer."  Thus 
speaking  he  took  the  little  one  up  in  his  arms,  and  then 
turning  to  his  companion,  he  added  : 

"  I'll  go  ahead  with  the  calf,  and  the  mother  '11  be  sure 
to  follow." 

And  so,  laughing  at  his  own  coarse  joke,  he  went  on, 
while  Glicker  followed,  leading  the  woman  by  the  hand. 
He  closed  the  door  behind  him,  and  ere  long  they  reached 
the  street,  where  a  covered  coach,  with  two  horses  attached, 
was  standing.  The  driver  had  to  growl  a  little  on  account 
of  having  been  kept  so  long  in  the  rain,  but  his  employer 
took  no  notice  of  it.  Constance  was  helped  into  the  car- 
riage at  once,  the  child  having  been  put  in  before  her,  and 
while  Glicker  was  following  them  to  the  inside,  Mr.  Bill 
Slumpkey  climbed  up  on  the  outside  to  a  seat  by  the  driver, 
and  in  a  monrent  more  they  were  driven  off. 

Poor  Constance  had  been  longing  for  the  hour  to  come 
which  should  set  her  free  from  the  wretched  place  which 
she  had  been  forced  to  call  home  ;  but  now,  as  she  caught 
the  last  glimpse  of  the  old  wooden  stairway,  as  the  coach 
turned  the  corner  into  Anthony  Street,  her  heart  sank 
within  her,  and  she  would  have  given  all  she  possessed  of 
worldly  goods  to  have  been  back,  for  the  dark,  cheerless 
night,  in  the  pestilential  chamber  !  For  from  that  place 
she  could  look  forward  to  the  coming  of  another  day  with 
a  bright  hope  ;  but  now  she  had  no  source  of  hope  left, 
save  such  as  the  drowning  man  may  have  who  grasps  at 
straws  which  float  about  him  ! 

The  rain  still  fell  in  torrents,  and  ever  and  anon  the  vivid 
lightning  flashed  through  the  sky,  followed  by  the  crash  of 
the  thunderbolt.  Constance  gazed  out  at  the  window,  and 
she  saw  the  water  in  the  gutters  rushing  on  in  torrents, 


THE  ABDUCTION.  125 

while  the  pavements  and  the  flagging-stones  reflected  the 
gas-light  from  their  flooded  surfaces.  Upon  the  sidewalks 
she  saw  men  hurrying  on  with  quick  steps,  many  of  them 
wet  and  cold,  and  often  she  would  meet  an  upturned  face 
upon  which  she  was  sure  she  could  read  the  spirit  of  envy. 
Envy  of  her  because  she  was  protected  from  the  storm  ! 
Oh  !  how  gladly  would  she  have  taken  her  child  in  her 
arms  and  rushed  forth  into  the  storm,  with  her  head  bared, 
and  her  bosom  all  exposed,  could  she  have  been  free  from 
the  power  of  him  who  held  where  she  was  ! 

She  knew  that  the  coach  had  been  in  Chatham  Street,  and 
she  believed  that  she  was  now  passing  down  East  Broad- 
way ;  but  beyond  this  she  was  not  acquainted.  When  the 
coach  turned  off  into  a  narrow  street  she  could  keep  the 
run  of  her  course  no  more.  She  watched  eagerly  for  some 
landmarks,  but  the  horses  dashed  on  so  swiftly  that  she 
could  read  none  of  the  signs.  At  length,  however,  she  saw 
one  which  she  could  plainly  decipher,  as  the  turning  of  the 
corner  slackened  the  speed.  It  was  a  large  sign,  upon 
quite  a  small  building,  and  read  :  "  OLD  FLY  MARKET." 
Just  here  they  turned  to  the  left,  and  ere  many  moments  the 
coach  was  stopped.  Bill  Slumpkey  immediately  appeared 
at  the  door  and  threw  it  open. 

"  Here  we  be,"  he  cried,  as  he  let  down  the  step. 

Glicker  made  no  reply  in  words,  but  simply  jumped  out 
with  the  child  in  his  arms,  and  having  given  it  to  his  com- 
panion he  turned  and  gave  his  hand  to  Constance.  She 
offered  no  resistance,  nor  did  she  hesitate  ;  but  she  got  out 
quickly,  and  instinctively  hurried  after  Slumpkey,  who  was 
conveying  Lizzie  up  a  narrow  alley-way  which  led  in  from 
the  street  to  a  very  small  court  beyond,  where  some  dismal 
looking  houses  were  built  upon  land  which  had  been 
originally  intended  for  back-yards.  Duffy  Glicker  came 
quickly  up  with  her,  and  took  her  by  the  hand. 

"We've  got  most  home,"  he  said.  "Come — right  in  this 
way." 

As  he  spoke  Slumpkey  had  just  thrown  back  a  small  gate, 
which  opened  the  way  to  a  little  brick  walk.  A  few  yards 
further  on  they  came  to  a  short  flight  of  wooden  steps  which 
led  to  a  door.  Here  Slumpkey  had  to  wait  till  his  com- 
panion carne  up,  the  latter  having  the  latch-key;  but  the 
door  was  §oon  opened,  and  then  they  passed  into  a  small 


126  ORION,   THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

hall  which  would  have  been  pitchy  dark  but  for  Clicker's 
lantern,  the  lamp  of  which  was  still  lighted.  Here  Duffy 
took  the  lead,  starting  up  the  stairs,  with  Constance's  hand 
still  grasped  in  his  own.  Up  to  the  third  story  he  went, 
where  he  opened  a  door,  near  the  back  part  of  the  building, 
which  led  to  quite  a  respectable  chamber.  As  soon  as  they 
were  all  in,  the  dark  man  turned  to  his  prisoner, 

"  There,"  he  uttered,  emphatically,  "  isn't  this  better  than 
the  place  I  took  ye  from  ?  I  tell  yer  ye'll  be  comfortable 
here.  Jest  see  what  a  nice  bed  ye've  got.  Now  ye  can  be 
jest  as  much  at  home  here  as  ye've  a  mind  to." 

Thus  speaking  he  moved  to  the  mantel  and  lighted  a 
small  spirit  lamp  which  stood  there,  and  then  turned 
towards  the  door. 

"  Ye'll  be  perfectly  safe  here,"  he  added,  after  Slumpkey 
had  gone  out.  "  I  shall  come  and  see  ye  as  soon  as  I  can  ; 
but  whether  I  come  or  not  there'll  be  somebody  to  attend 
to  yer  wants.  Good  night." 

Constance  Milmer  gazed  vacantly  into  the  villain's  face 
while  he  was  speaking,  but  she  made  no  reply.  She  saw 
him  go  out,  and  she  heard  him  lock  the  door,  and  then  she 
listened  until  she  heard  his  footsteps  die  away  in  the  dis- 
tance ;  and  when  she  could  hear  no  more,  save  the  pattering 
of  the  rain,  she  caught  her  child  to  her  bosom  and  burst 
into  tears.  She  wept  long  and  deeply,  and  the  sobs  of  the 
little  one  were  mingled  with  her  own.  It  was  the  innocent 
child  that  first  spoke  the  name  of  God,  but  in  a  moment 
more  the  mother  was  upon  her  knees,  and  a  solemn  calm- 
ness crept  o'er  her  spirit  as  she  prayed. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

A    LIVE   COUNT,    AND    AN    UNWELCOME   VISITOR. 

THE   large   parlors   of   Paul  Tiverton's   mansion  were 
lighted,  though  not  very  brightly,  Isabella  having  a 
visitor  peculiarly  her  own.     This  visitor  was  no  less  a 
personage    than    the   German   Count,    Adolphus   Gerald 
Charlemagne  Gusterhausen.     An  imposing  name  truly,  but 
then  he  was  a.  gount,  and  counts  have  long  names— it  is 


A   LITE  COUNT.  127 

customary  for  the  scions  of  noble  stock  to  represent  noble 
ancestors.  So  we  find  the  children  of  kings  and  queens 
with  immense  names.  Just  look  at  the  name,  or  names,  of 
the  infants  of  Spain.  The  royal  house  of  England  is  rather 
more  economical  in  this  respect,  because  the  children  out- 
number the  good  names  in  the  genealogical  calendar  ;  but 
the  infant  of  France  has  a  prodigious  name,  and  so  we  find 
many  other  noble  families  equally  prodigal  in  this  respect. 

Count  Adolphus  Gerald  Charlemagne  Gusterhausen  was 
a  tall,  flaxen-haired  man,  with  light  gray  eyes  ;  a  light  beard 
and  moustache  ;  a  very  aristocratic  form,  and  not  by  any 
means  ugly  or  forbidding  to  look  upon.  The  principal 
characteristic  in  his  face  was  one  of  what  is  generally 
termed  softness — not  softness  as  applied  to  music,  or  poetry, 
or  the  human  heart ;  but  rather  such  softness  as  we  find  in 
an  over-ripe  cabbage,  or  something  of  that  sort.  In  fact  he 
possessed  an  intense  softness  when  ripened  into  aristocracy. 
What  he  might  have  been  in  some  other  sphere — say  with  a 
white  apron  on  behind  a  gentleman's  chair  at  dinner — we 
cannot  say. 

Isabella  Tiverton  had  become  acquainted  with  the  Count 
at  a  party  given  by  a  Mushroom  on  the  Fifth  Avenue.  She 
forgot  that  a  man  who  had  leaped  into  sudden  wealth  from 
a  state  of  comparative  poverty  might  be  easily  imposed 
upon  in  the  aristocratic  world  ;  and  because  she  met  people 
as  invited  guests  in  a  palace  she  supposed  they  must  be  all 
of  pure  blood.  Of  course  the  proud,  dark-eyed  daughter 
of  the  millionaire  was  the  observed  of  all  observers,  and 
even  the  German  Count  had  been  anxious  to  make  her 
acquaintance.  He  had  talked  to  her  of  his  vast  estates  in 
Germany — of  his  noble  family,  and  of  the  mighty  deeds  of 
his  heroic  ancestors.  All  this  had  pleased  Isabella  much, 
for  under  her  mother's  training  she  had  grown  up  with  no 
understanding  of  humanity  further  than  what  appeared 
in  show  upon  the  outside.  She  had  read  all  the  thrilling 
novels  she  could  find,  and  had  thus  become  charmed  with 
the  sound  of  noble  titles.  A  Count  was  to  her  the  very 
substance  of  greatness  and  of  romance  ;  and  she  had  fairly 
trembled  with  excitement  when  she  had  whispered  to  her- 
self the  word,  "  COUNTESS  !  "  In  her  escritoire  were  several 
blank  notes  superscribed  thus  :  u  To  the  Countess  Isabella." 
"  To  the  Honorable  the  Countess  of  Gusterhausen."  "  For  the 


128  ORION-,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

noble  Countess."  These  she  had  written  herself,  just  to  see 
how  the  high-sounding  title  would  look  upon  paper. 

On  the  present  evening  the  Count  had  been  in  the  parlor 
some  two  hours  when  the  reader  is  introduced,  and  we  may 
imagine  that  during  that  time  he  had  talked  a  great  deal  of 
love.  But  we  have  chosen  this  particular  moment  to  look 
in  upon  the  happy  couple,  because  just  then  Mrs.  Tiverton 
herself  entered,  all  flounced  and  gilded  and  painted,  as 
though  for  conquest. 

"  My  dear  Count,"  she  uttered,  as  she  twisted  her  body 
into  the  most  fashionable  shapes,  "  I  could  not  think  of 
allowing  our  beloved  Isabella  to  monopolize  your  company 
any  longer.  I  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  your  going 
away  without  my  seeing  you." 

"  Ah — me  dear  Lady  Tiverton,"  drawled  the  long-named 
man,  slowly  and  aristocratically  arising  from  his  chair,  "  you 
do  me  honaw — you  do,  positively.  Me  deah  Isabellah  and 
I  have  enjoyed  a  very  pleasant  season  ;  but  youah  presence 
ish  goot.  How  do  you  find  youahself  dis  evening  ? " 

"  As  well  as  usual,  my  dear  Count,"  returned  the  mother, 
sinking  into  one  corner  of  a  damask-covered  tete-a-tete. 
"  I  am  not  strong." 

"  Only  in  beauty  and  loveliness,"  said  the  Count,  with  a 
prodigious  twist  of  body  and  face.  "  Wid  such  weapons 
as  dose  you  have  powah  enough.  You  no  need  de  strength 
of  de  body." 

"  Oh,  you  naughty  man  ! "  cried  Isabella,  patting  his 
sallow  cheek  with  the  tip  of  her  feathered  fan. 

"  Naughty — for  what  ? "  asked  Adolphus,  with  a  look  of 
immense  astonishment. 

"  To  flatter  us  poor  creatures  so,"  answered  the  maiden. 

"  Vel — dere — I  vont  never  again  speak  anoder  word  of 
trut'  to  de  females  heah.  In  me  own  faderland  our  ladies 
tink  netting  of  being  complimented  for  dere  beauty  ;  but 
here  I  find  dem  all  so  very  modest  dat  dey  no  love  to  be 
told  if  dey  is  beautiful  and  lovely.  Don't  you  always  love 
to  say  a  flowah  ish  beautiful  ven  you  pick  him  off  de 
shtem  ? " 

"  Yes,"  murmured  Isabella. 

"  Den  vy  not  I  say  de  flowah  of  de  sex  is  lovely  ven  I 
tink  so,  eh  ?  How  can  I  see — But  I  must  shtop.  My  eyes 
is  dazzled.  Me  heart  is  turned  with  passion." 


A  LIVE   COUNT.  129 

Had  a  stranger  chanced  to  drop  in  at  that  moment,  he 
would  have  been  frightened  for  fear  the  Count  was  really 
dying ;  but  the  women  were  used  to  that  sort  of  thing,  and 
they  were  not  frightened  at  all.  There  followed  a  little 
side-play  of  smiles  and  making  faces,  and  then  the  Count 
said,  with  a  sudden  air  of  importance  : 

"  But  say — have  you  heard  dat  de  Prince  Bernardo  de 
Tavora  had  arrived  in  New  York  ?  " 

"The  Prince?"  uttered  Mrs.  Tiverton,  with  interest. 

"  Yes/5 

"  A  prince  of  your  country  ? " 

"  No.     He  ish  an  Etarlyn." 

"  An  Italian  ? "  repeated  Isabella. 

"  Yes — one  of  the  most  noble  princes  of  Italy.  He  is 
travelling  to  see  the  woorlt,  and  some  voornderful  fortune 
brought  him  here.  He  owns  estates  near  Rome." 

"  What — near  the  great  eternal  city  ? "  cried  Isabella,  in 
wonder.  "  Is  he  a  powerful  prince  ? " 

"  Oh — next  to  the  king.  I  have  known  him  for  many 
years.  Ven  I  goes  to  Rome  I  always  go  to  his  palace,  and 
ven  he  comes  to  Germany  he  always  stops  at  my  castle." 

"  Oh  !  "  murmured  Mrs.  Tiverton,  with  a  longing,  wistful 
look,  "  how  happy  must  they  be  who  can  legitimately  talk 
of  palaces  and  of  castles  !  It  is  not  only  romantic,  but 
there  is  a  conscious  superiority  in  the  bosom  of  one  who 
looks  down  from  the  bristling  battlements  of  a  noble  castle 
upon  the  host  of  serving-men  beneath." 

"  You  will  bring  the  Prince  here,  dear  Count,  won't 
you  ?"  cried  Isabella. 

"  Ah — I  don't  know,"  returned  Adolphus  with  a  mys- 
terious look.  "  It  wouldn't  be  safe." 

"  But  why  not  ?  Oh,  dear,  dear  Count,  I  hope  there 
rests  not  in  your  bosom  the  lingering  of  a  painful,  wicked 
doubt,  that  I  could  prove  false  to  you." 

"  No,  no,  no,  divine  one,"  uttered  the  nobleman,  with 
emphasis.  "I  am  not  afraid  of  that.  Ah,  no.  But  de 
Prince  is  not  married — he  hash  no  wife."  And  then  turning 
a  very  significant  look  upon  Mrs.  Tiverton,  he  added — "  Oh, 
it  would  be  cruel  to  bring  him  heah — to  expose  him  to  such 
charms  as  the  mother  of  my  angel  possesses — and  then  have 
him  find  out  dat  dose  charms  are  already  an  odder's.  Ah 
— 'twould  be  too  cruel !  " 


130  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEA  TER. 

Julia  Tiverton  blushed  and  hung  down  her  head,  and  for 
some  moments  she  gazed  upon  the  floor  ;  but  ere  long  she 
looked  up  again,  and  a  faint  smile  stole  over  her  face  as  she 
said  : 

"  Oh — you  wicked  man  !    How  can  you  trifle  with  me  so  ? " 

"  Now — lady  Tiverton — don't  say  so  !  Oh  !  you  ish  too 
bad.  I  have  some  love  for  my  friend.  How  could  I  take 
him  here,  and  then  take  him  away  broken-hearted.  Must 
I  do  it  ?  " 

"  Wretched  man,"  said  Mrs.  Tiverton,  softly. 

"  Am  I  wretched  ?  Oh,  don't  say  so  ?  I'll  bring  the 
Prince  if  you  bid  me." 

"  Oh,  that's  right !  "  cried  Isabella,  in  delight. 

"  I  ain't  afraid  of  you,  my  angel,"  the  Count  said,  turning 
to  the  maiden  ;  "because  if  de  Prince  should  dare  to  tink 
of  you  wid  love,  I  should  just  shoot  him  ! " 

Both  the  ladies  were  struck  with  admiration  ;  but  they 
declared  that  no  duel  should  be  fought.  Isabella  declared 
that  the  Count  should  not  expose  himself,  and  her  mother 
would  protect  the  Prince.  But  they  at  length  gained  from 
Adolphus  the  promise  that  he  would  bring  the  Prince  with 
him  as  soon  as  possible.  It  was  eleven  o'clock  when  he 
arose  to  take  his  leave.  He  kissed  the  tips  of  the  ladies' 
fingers,  and  then  bowed  himself  out  in  the  most  approved 
fashion. 

"  Isn't  he  a  splendid  man  ! "  uttered  Isabella,  as  the 
mother  and  daughter  re-entered  the  parlor. 

"He  is — he  must  be,"  returned  Julia ;  "else  he  would 
not  be  a  prince." 

"  Why — I  meant  the  Count,  mamma.  Isn't  he  a  splendid 
man  ?" 

"  Oh — ah — I  see.  Yes — a — yes — he  is,  Isabella — he  is. 
I  like  him  very  much." 

"  And  don't  you  think  he  improves  under  my  teaching  in 
his  language  ?  He  will  say  '  ish  '  for  is,  and  '  dem  '  for  them, 
once  in  a  while  ;  but  I  think  he  learns  wonderfully.  Only 
think,  marm — /  the  teacher  of  a  count." 

The  mother  said  it  was  very  funny — and  then  Isabella 
said  it  was  not  funny,  but  remarkable.  "  Marm  "  admitted 
that  it  was  remarkable,  and  then  went  at  work  upon  her 
thoughts. 

"  I  should  like  to  hare  a  real  social  companion — one  with 


AN   UNWELCOME    VISITOR.  13 l 

whom  I  could  take  pleasure  in  conversing,"  she  said  at 
length.  "  How  I  should  enjoy  it.  Mr.  Tiverton  is  nothing 
to  me.  He  cares  nothing  for  my  happiness." 

Oh,  Julia  Tiverton,  you  have  not  mind  enough  to  read 
the  great  soul  of  your  husband  !  You  know  not  his  noble 
heart  !  You  dream  not  of  the  hours  of  humble  prayer  he 
has  spent  in  your  behalf  !  You  have  no  conception  of  the 
joy  he  could  give  you  if  you  would  but  let  him  lift  you  up 
out  of  the  slough  into  which  you  have  lowered  yourself  ! 
But  no ! — your  soul  is  perverse — your  heart  cold  and  hard 
— and  your  whole  life,  from  the  moment  that  you  first  saw 
Paul  Tiverton  at  your  side  to  the  present  time,  has  been 
one  black,  bold  lie  ! 

The  females  were  upon  the  point  of  leaving  the  parlor 
when  the  door-bell  was  rung. 

"  It  may  be  the  Count,  returned  for  something,"  said 
Isabella  ;  and  so  they  waited  to  see  who  it  might  be. 

One  of  the  kitchen  girls  went  to  the  door,  and  the 
hostess  heard  her  conversing  with  some  one  there.  In  a 
few  moments  the  door  of  the  parlor  was  opened,  and  the 
servant  ushered  in  an  old,  decrepit,  poorly  clad  woman. 
Both  the  mother  and  daughter  started  back  in  affright,  and 
as  the  intruder  threw  open  her  old  cloak  they  absolutely 
cried  out  with  fear.  She  was  a  very  old  woman — certainly 
near  eighty — with  features  all  browned  and  sunken  by  ex- 
posure and  time  ;  her  form  bent  and  trembling  ;  her  sparse 
locks  gray  and  matted,  and  her  garb  somewhat  poor  and 
soiled.  She  walked  with  a  stout  staff ;  and  as  she  stood 
now,  leaning  heavily  upon  it,  she  looked  the  very  picture 
of  Old  Age,  as  set  down  in  the  books. 

"Julia,"  she  spoke,  in  a  feeble,  cracked  tone,  "don't  you 
know  me  ?" 

"  I  don't  want  to  know  you,"  the  frightened  hostess 
cried.  "  What  did  you  come  here  for  ?  " 

"Julia,"  repeated  the  poor  old  woman,  in  mingled 
astonishment  and  pain,  "  don't  you  know  me  ?  " 

"  Why  should  I  know  you  ?  " 

"  But  you  haven't  forgot  your  poor  old  Aunt  Rhoda,  have 
you  ?  Julia — my  child — I  am  your  poor  old  aunt." 

Julia  Tiverton  turned  very  pale  where  the  paint  did  not 
hide  it,  and  her  frame  trembled  at  every  joint.  She  knew 
her  aunt,  and  she  knew  that  her  aunt  had  always  been  very 


132  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

kind  to  her  ;  and  yet  she  did  not  wish  to  have  her  remain 
there. 

"  What  on  earth  induced  you  to  come  here  at  this  time 
o'  night  ? "  the  hostess  at  length  uttered,  having  regained 
her  presence  of  mind.  "  My  servant  must  have  been  very 
stupid  to  let  you  in." 

"  This  time  of  night  ?"  repeated  Aunt  Rhoda,  in  surprise. 
"  Why — you  would  not  have  had  me  remain  out  of  doors 
all  night  while  you  had  a  large  house  ? " 

"But  you  can't  stop  here.     Our  room  is  all  taken  up." 

"  Yes,"  chimed  in  Isabella,  "  all  our  room  is  occupied. 
But  you  can  find  lodgings  at  any  of  the  houses  where  they 
have  signs  out  on  the  avenues."  And  then  slipping  up  to 
her  mother's  side,  she  whispered  :.  "  Do  get  rid  of  her  in 
some  way,  for  mercy's  sake  ? " 

"  You  must  go  away  now,  old  lady,"  Julia  urged,  turning 
once  more  to  the  visitor.  "  Perhaps,  some  time  when  I  am 
at  home,  you  can  come  and  see  me  ! " 

"  And  is  this  Julia  Tiverton  ? "  spake  the  old  woman, 
slowly  and  painfully.  "  Is  this  the  girl  who  was  once  my 
little  niece — my  Julia  Church  ?  Oh  !  you  wouldn't — " 

"  I  can't  stop  to  hear  you  now,"  cried  the  hostess,  trem- 
bling more  than  before.  "  You  ought  to  have  known  better 
than  to  come  here  to  a  fashionable  house  at  this  hour." 

"  But  I  surely  might  come  when  I  saw  lights  burning," 
pleaded  Aunt  Rhoda. 

"  Do  get  her  off  !  "  whispered  Isabella. 

Ah  !  the  mother  had  reasons  for  wishing  that  old  woman 
away  which  the  daughter  did  not  dream  of  ! 

But  the  scene  was  broken  in  upon  in  a  most  summary 
manner.  The  outer  door  was  heard  to  open,  and  in  a 
moment  more  Mr.  Tiverton  entered  the  parlor  !  He  started 
back  in  surprise  upon  seeing  the  decrepit  old  woman,  and 
his  wife  and  daughter  in  an  apparently  frightened  state. 

"  Ah — what's  all  this  ? "  he  asked,  after  he  had  scanned 
the  visitor's  features. 

"  This  old  woman  won't  go  away,  pa,"  Isabella  cried. 

"Who  are  you  ?  "  he  asked,  turning  towards  the  intruder. 

"You  have  seen  me  before,  Paul  Tiverton,"  she  replied, 
in  a  sad,  broken  tone  of  voice.  "  Many  and  many  a  time 
you've  been  upon  these  knees,  and  in  these  arms.  Don't 
you  remember  when  you  used  to  visit  at  Mr,  Church's, 


AN-  UNWELCOME    VISITOR.  133 

when  you  were  a  boy — a  little  boy  not  more'n  so  high  •,  and 
Julia  was  a  child,  too  ?  " 

"What?"  cried  the  merchant,  starting  forward  and 
grasping  the  old  woman  by  the  hand.  "Is  this  Aunt 
Rhoda?" 

"Yes,  Paul — I  am  poor  old  Aunt  Rhoda." 

"  And  you've  been  very  unfortunate,  haven't  you  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir, — but  not  so  much  so  as  I  might  have  been.  I 
have  just  come  back  from  Maine,  where  I  went  to  see  to 
my  business  in  person  ;  and  'twas  fortunate  I  did  so,  for 
I've  saved  something  by  it.  I've  saved  nigh  onto  a  thousand 
dollars,  and  have  lost  twelve  thousand." 

"  Well — we  won't  stop  to  talk  about  business  now. — But, 
in  mercy's  name,  what  are  you  standing  up  for  ? " 

Thus  far  Mrs.  Tiverton  had  looked  on  in  silence,  but  now 
she  had  resolved  to  speak. 

"  Mr.  T.,"  she  said,  moving  to  her  husband's  side,  "  we 
will  send  one  of  the  servants  to  show  this  old  woman  to 
some  good  lodging-house — of  course  she  cannot  stop  here." 

"  Julia  Tiverton  ! "  uttered  the  merchant,  in  astonishment, 
"  are  you  in  earnest  ?  " 

"Why — of  course  I  am,"  she  said. 

•'  And  do  you  mean  that  you  would  turn  your  poor  old 
aunt — your  own  father's  only  sister — out  of  doors?" 

"  Don't  be  a  fool  ! "  cried  the  wife,  pettishly.  "  You 
know  I  would  find  a  shelter  for  her  ;  but  we  haven't  got 
room  for  her  here,  and  you  know  it !  " 

"  I  know  we  have  room  for  German  counts,  and  all  other 
trash  that  comes  in  the  guise  of  fashion  !  So  I  think  we 
can  find  room  for  one  of  our  own  kindred.  Is  it  possible 
that  you  have  been  trying  to  drive  this  poor  woman  from 
the  house  ?" 

But  he  got  no  answer.  At  the  mention  of  German  counts 
Isabella  tried  to  go  into  hysterics,  but  she  saw  her  mother 
seemed  inclined  to  do  the  same  thing,  and  fearing  that 
there  would  be  no  one  to  take  care  of  her  if  she  lost  her 
senses,  she  concluded  to  keep  them. 

"  Wretch  !  "  gasped  Mrs.  Tiverton,  fiercely, 

"You  only  harm  yourself,  Julia,"  returned  the  husband, 
cooly.  "  You  should  know  me  better  than  to  suppose  that 
I  would  see  our  good  old  aunt  leave  our  roof  at  this  time." 

'4Then  you  may  take  care  of  her  !  "  snapped  out  the  mad 


J34  ORIOti,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

wife,  at  the  same  time  starting  for  the  door.  But  she  did 
not  go  out.  She  hesitated,  and  finally  turned  back.  She 
gazed  into  the  old  woman's  face,  and  when  she  spoke  her 
whole  tone  and  expression  were  changed  as  if  by  magic. 

"Aunt  Rhoda,"  she  said,  "you  don't  know  how  much  I 
have  to  bother  me  ;  I  didn't  mean  to  be  unkind.  Come — 
come  with  me.  Forgive  me  if  I  have  wronged  you.  But 
come  with  me  now." 

She  took  the  old  woman's  hand  as  she  spoke,  and  led  her 
unresistingly  from  the  room. 

"  Ah — I  thought  my  little  Julia  couldn't  be  so  cruel/' 
uttered  the  aunt,  as  she  hobbled  along.  But  little  did  she 
know  that  devotee  of  fashion,  if  she  thought  so. 

As  the  door  was  closed  Mr.  Tiverton  started  across  the 
room  with  a  nervous,  hurried  step.  He  saw  very  plainly 
that  there  was  something  hidden.  He  knew  too  well  that 
his  wife  had  not  been  moved  by  any  feeling  of  affection  or 
gratitude — nothing  under  the  sun  could  have  moved  her 
but  fear !  He  knew  this.  Suddenly  he  stopped,  and  a 
painful  light  shot  across  his  face.  With  this  strange  freak 
of  his  wife  he  had  associated  the  mystic  scene  which  had 
transpired  upon  the  visit  of  old  Daro  Kid. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

COUNTER     PLOT. 

WHEN  Mr.  Tiverton  went  up-stairs  he  found  his  wife 
still  up  and  alone.  This  was  the  first  opportunity 
he  had  had  to  speak  with  her  in  private  since  that 
eventful  morning  on  which  Daro  Kid  called.  He  hesitated 
at  first  about  going  into  her  room  now,  but  he  was  resolved 
to  question  her  on  the  subject,  and  he  knew  of  no  better  time 
than  the  present.  So  he  entered  the  apartment  where  she 
sat,  and  took  a  seat  near  her.  She  gazed  into  his  face  with 
a  sour  expression,  but  was  willing  to  let  him  speak  first, 
seeming  to  expect  a  lecture  of  some  sort,  if  one  might 
judge  from  the  compression  of  her  thin  lips. 

"  Julia,"  her  husband  said,  in  a  low,  earnest  tone,  "  I  have 
come  to  you  at  this  time  to  ask  you  for  some  information 


COUNTER  PLOT.  135 

touching  a  very  peculiar  subject,  and  I  hope  you  will  give 
me  a  candid  return.  You  must  be  aware  that  the  strange 
scene  of  the  other  morning  has  left  a  very  troublesome 
tendency  to  surmise  and  doubt  upon  my  mind.  Does  it 
not  appear  reasonable  to  you  that  such  should  be  the 
result?" 

Mrs.  Tiverton  made  no  reply  ;  but  she  trembled  violently, 
and  her  face  was  very  pale.  The  paint  was  washed  off 
now,  and  her  pallor  could  not  be  concealed. 

"  I  shall  take  your  silence  as  an  affirmative  by  assent,  and 
proceed.  And  now  mark  me,  Julia — I  do  not  ask  this  from 
mere  idle  curiosity,  but  from  far  deeper  motives,  in  which 
your  own  welfare  has  as  much  weight  as  mine.  Now  will 
you  tell  me  what  dealings  you  have  ever  had  with  that  man 
who  came  here  under  the  name  of  Daro  Kid  ?  I  hardly 
think  that  is  his  real  name." 

The  woman  gave  a  keen,  searching  glance  into  her  hus- 
band's face  as  he  made  this  last  remark,  but  if  he  had  any 
concealed  knowledge  she  could  not  detect  it. 

"  I  can  not  give  you  the  information  you  seek,  sir,"  she 
at  length  replied,  in  a  low,  tremulous  tone. 

"  But  you  can  tell  me  something,  Julia.  I  only  ask  you 
to  tell  me  what  you  know.  You  have  surely  seen  that  man 
before.  Is  it  not  so  ? " 

"  I  could  not  tell,  sir,  I  am  sure,"  she  answered,  gatherinng 
more  composure  as  she  went  on.  "  I  may  have  seen  him  ; 
but  I  think — there  must  be  some  mistake." 

"  Then  you  think  he  did  not  really  know  you  ?  You 
think  he  mistook  you  for  some  one  else  ? " 

Mrs.  Tiverton  grasped  at  the  bait  too  eagerly. 

"Yes,  yes,"  she  quickly  returned.     "  That  is  it  exactly." 

Now  the  merchant  had  thrown  this  out  to  see  if  she 
would  not  adopt  it,  and  finding  out  that  she  did  he  resolved 
to  try  another  experiment  in  an  opposite  direction. 

"  Julia  Tiverton,"  he  said,  looking  her  directly  in  the 
face,  and  speaking  sternly  and  almost  menacingly,  "  do  you 
dream  that  a  few  short  years  can  so  utterly  have  obliterated 
all  memory  of  the  past  ?  Did  you  ever  know  Daro  Kid 
when  he  bore  another  name  ? " 

Again  the  wife  turned  pale,  and  her  wasted  frame  shook 
more  fearfully  than  before.  She  first  cast  one  search- 
ing glance  into  her  husband's  face,  but  she  could  read 


136  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER, 

nothing  there,  and  in  a  moment  more  her  gaze  fell  to 
the  floor. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  tell,  sir,"  the  woman  uttered,  making 
one  violent  effort  to  overcome  her  emotions.  "  I  know 
nothing,  and  can  tell  nothing." 

Mr.  Tiverton  knew  his  wife  well  enough  to  know  that  he 
should  gain  nothing  more  from  her.  He  knew  when  he  saw 
that  expression  upon  her  face  that  even  the  presence  of 
death  would  not  move  her,  so  he  arose  and  turned  towards 
the  door ;  but  ere  he  passed  out  he  stopped  and  looked 
once  more  upon  his  wife. 

"  Julia,"  he  said,  more  in  sadness  than  in  passion,  "  I  will 
question  you  no  more  now.  You  know  best  the  reason  you 
have  for  concealment — Stop — I  mean  nothing  that  needs 
reply.  I  can  see  very  plainly  that  you  have  things  laid 
away  in  your  thoughts  which  you  will  not  impart  to  me.  If 
you  imagine  that  you  could  lose  anything  by  trusting  me 
you  are  mistaken.  Confide  to  me  anything  that  lies  heavily 
now  upon  your  mind,  and,  let  it  be  what  it  may,  you  shall 
be  the  gainer  thereby.  Oh,  Julia,  you  know  not  how  I 
could  love  and  cherish  you  if  you  would  only  confide  in  me, 
and  love  me  in  return.  Let  me  see  that  I  have  your  con- 
fidence— let  me  see  that  you  are  anxious  for  my  happiness 
— let  me  see  that  you  would  make  my  home  happy  by  your 
smiles — aye — only  smile  upon  me  as  you  smile  upon  those 
whom  you  call  your  friends,  and  with  one  sweep  I  will  cast 
all  the  past  away,  and  take  you  to  my  bosom  and  hold  you 
there  forever  more  !  Oh,  will  you  not  listen  !  " 

A  softer  shade  crept  upon  the  wife's  face  and  there  was  a 
moisture  in  her  dark  eyes.  The  husband  saw  it,  and  for 
the  moment  a  wild  hope  sprang  to  life  within  him.  He 
took  a  step  forward  and  held  out  his  hands. 

"  Oh  !  Julia — my  wife — I  know  you  have  a  heart — you 
have  reason — you  have  intelligence — love — grace — and 
ambition.  You  know  how  you  smile  upon  others.  Listen 
to  me — oh,  listen — and  understand.  You  know  how  you 
smile  upon  those  who  come  here  to  visit  you — how  happy 
you  make  them — and  how  you  can  interest  them  when  you 
please.  Can  you  not  give  to  me,  whose  all — all  of  home- 
joys  is  in  your  keeping,  the  same  that  you  can  give  to 
others  who  have  no  claims  upon  you.  Julia — wife — love — 
think  of  it.  Cannot  you  do  it?  Can  you  not  give  me 


COUNTER  PLOT.  137 

those  same  smiles  when  I  come  to  my  home  ? — oh — how 
easy  the  task — how  simple  and  how  proper  !  Speak — tell 
me — will  you  not  try?" 

The  poor,  hoping,  longing,  prayerful  man  had  gradually 
worked  his  way  to  his  wife's  side  while  he  was  speaking, 
and  as  he  concluded  he  held  out  his  hands — he  held  them 
both  out — and  he  thought  she  would  take  them.  Julia 
Tiverton  hesitated.  She  knew  that  she  held  it  in  her  power 
to  make  her  husband  happy — that  from  this  moment  she 
could  secure  peace  and  joy  for  herself.  She  knew  that  one 
word  from  her  lips  would  bring  that  noble  man  upon  his 
knees  with  gratitude,  and  secure  her  own  honor.  All  this 
she  knew,  and  all  this  passed  through  her  mind.  For  one 
moment  there  was  a  quivering  of  the  nether  lip,  and  a 
slight  convulsiveness  was  perceptible  in  the  whole  frame. 
But  it  was  quickly  gone — the  spark  went  out  from  her  eye 
— the  frame  became  cold  and  rigid — the  lip  grew  pale  as  it 
pressed  upon  the  pearly  teeth,  and  while  a  shade  of  mingled 
pain  and  pride  passed  over  her  face  she  said  : 

"  I  hoped  you  had  gone.  You  only  annoy  me  by  such 
out-of-place  propositions.  I  am  fatigued  !  " 

Poor  Paul  Tiverton  !  But — oh  !  doubly — trebly — aye — 
a  thousand  times  more  bitter  for  thee,  unfeeling  woman, 
shall  be  the  consequences  of  this  hour  !  Peace  was  within 
thy  grasp,  and  thou  didst  cast  it  from  thee  !  Honor  would 
have  placed  its  matchless  diadem  upon  thy  brow,  but  with 
that  one  polluted  breath  thou  hast  dimmed  its  brightness 
for  ever. 

The  unhappy  husband  stood  for  a  single  instant  and 
gazed  upon  his  wife,  and  then  he  hurried  from  the  apart- 
ment. When  he  was  gone  the  woman  started  to  her  feet 
and  walked  to  and  fro  across  the  room  with  quick,  nervous 
steps. 

"  I  could  not  do  it,"  she  said  to  herself,  stopping  and 
clasping  her  hands  before  her.  "What  would  I  be  tied 
down  within  such  a  compass?  What  is  Honor? — The 
tame,  submissive  state  of  those  who  fear  to  be  free ! 
What  is  Peace  ? — The  result  of  implicit  obedience  to  one's 
husband  !  What  is  Happiness  ? — The  enjoyment  of  life  at 
one's  will ! — the  perfect  freedom  to  go  and  come  at 
pleasure,  and  own  no  mortal  catechizer !  Aye,  Paul  Tiver- 
ton. I  know  what  life  is,  and  I  will  enjoy  it ! " 


138  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

But  even  as  she  spoke  there  was  a  "  still,  small  voice  " 
whispering  in  her  soul  that  she  lied  !  She  heard  it  plainly 
— she  knew  its  truth— she  felt  the  lie  in  her  heart — and 
she  shut  up  the  theme,  and  thought  no  more  about  it,  save 
such  thoughts  as  would  force  themselves  in  between  her 
otherwise  occupied  moments  ;  but  they  were  quickly  thrust 
down  again,  leaving  no  impression  behind,  other  than  a 
worrying  sting  for  the  while. 

She  did  not  resume  her  seat  again  ;  but  as  soon  as  she 
had  disposed  of  the  thoughts  her  husband's  remarks  had 
called  up,  she  took  a  small  waxen  taper  from  the  marble 
mantel,  and  having  lighted  it  at  the  gas  she  left  the  room. 
A  few  steps  brought  her  to  the  hall,  and  there,  with  a  noise- 
less tread,  she  ascended  the  stairs  to  the  third  story.  She 
stopped  here  only  to  listen,  and  then  kept  on  still  higher  up. 
On  this  fourth  floor  there  were  four  chambers,  and  in  one 
of  them  poor  old  Rhoda  Church  had  laid  her  weary  limbs 
down  to  repose.  Julia  Tiverton  moved  carefully  up  to  the 
door  and  listened.  She  heard  the  heavy  breathing  of  the 
aged  sleeper,  and  thus  knew  that  she  slept.  She  opened 
the  door  and  entered,  and  having  closed  it  behind  her,  she 
went  to  the  bedside.  She  had  as  yet  had  no  opportunity 
for  private  conversation  with  her  aunt,  Isabella  having  been 
in  the  way  until  the  old  woman  had  retired  ;  but  that  con- 
versation she  must  have,  and  she  had  come  now  for  that 
purpose  ;  so  she  placed  her  hand  upon  the  sleeper's  shoulder 
and  administered  a  gentle  shake ;  but  this  produced  no 
result.  She  gave  a  smarter  shake,  and  the  wayworn  woman 
moved  heavily  upon  the  pillow.  Another — and  another — 
and  yet  another  ;  and  finally  Aunt  Rhoda  opened  her  eyes. 
She  seemed  frightened  at  first ;  but  gradually  her  eyes 
became  used  to  the  light,  and  she  sat  up  in  her  bed. 

Half  an  hour  after  this,  as  Mr.  Tiverton  had  started  to 
go  from  the  bathing-room  to  his  chamber,  he  heard  a  light 
step  upon  the  upper  stairs.  He  hastened  to  his  room,  but 
left  his  door  so  far  ajar  that  he  could  see  any  one  who 
might  pass.  In  a  few  moments  more  he  saw  his  wife  hurry 
by  with  a  small  lighted  taper  in  her  hand.  In  an  instant 
he  suspected  that  she  had  been  up  to  the  old  woman's 
chamber.  He  retired  to  his  dressing-table  and  sat  down. 
He  must  see  the  aged  visitor  in  the  morning,  for  he  had 
determined  to  draw  from  her,  if  possible,  whatever  she 


COUNTER  PLOT.  139 

might  know  concerning  his  wife.  He  knew — or,  at  least, 
firmly  believed — that  Julia  had  some  hidden  motive  for 
wishing  to  get  rid  of  her  aunt. 

Paul  Tiverton  was  not  a  man  who  would  have  allowed 
any  mere  spirit  of  curiosity  to  govern  his  movements  ;  but 
in  the  present  case  he  felt  a  deep  and  painful  concern,  and 
he  could  not  rest  under  the  vague  suspicions  and  shape- 
less phantasms  that  were  continually  crowding  upon  his 
mind. 

"  She  must  have  had  some  deep  motive — some  powerful 
reason — for  going  up  and  awakening  the  tired  sleeper  at 
such  an  hour,"  the  merchant  said  to  himself,  as  he  started 
up  from  his  chair.  "  Very  likely  she  means  that  I  shall  not 
see  her — she  means  that  the  woman  who  hold  the  secrets 
of  her  life  shall  not  see  me  alone  face  to  face." 

Awhile  he  stood,  with  his  head  bowed,  and  his  hands 
clasped  beneath  his  chin,  pondering  upon  this  matter.  Then 
he  lighted  a  taper — just  such  an  one  as  his  wife  had  used — 
and  having  drawn  on  his  dressing-gown  he  left  his  chamber. 
He  descended  the  lower  stairs  to  the  front  hall,  and  from 
thence  to  the  basement. 

Mr.  Tiverton's  buildings  occupied  three  lots,  his  carriage- 
house  and  stable  being  near  his  dwelling.  On  the  present 
occasion  he  made  his  way  to  a  small  cottage-like  building, 
which  stood  between  the  house  and  the  stable,  being  con- 
nected with  both  by  a  covered  passage,  where  the  men 
servants  slept.  The  first  Apartment  of  this  cot  which  he 
entered  was  the  harness-room,  and  opening  out  from  it  were 
two  good  airy  bed-rooms.  -  In  one  of  these  slept  Thomas 
Hartley,  the  coachman,  in  whose  integrity  the  merchant  had 
the  fullest  confidence. 

As  Mr.  Tiverton  stepped  into  the  bed-room,  noiselessly, 
as  he  had  supposed,  Thomas  started  up  and  called  out : 

4 Who's  there?" 

'  It's  I,  Thomas." 

'And  who's  ' 7,  Thomas') '" 

'  Come — I  wish  to  speak  with  you  a  moment." 

'  Oh — ah — excuse  me,  sir,"  the  coachman  uttered,  leap- 
ing from  the  bed,  and  rubbing  his  eyes.  "  I  didn't  know 
who  it  was." 

"  Never  mind.  I  want  to  speak  with  you  a  moment. 
Just  step  this  way." 


140  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

They  went  to  the  harness-room,  and,  having  closed  the 
door,  the  merchant  resumed  : 

"  Now  listen,  for  I  want  you  to  keep  your  eyes  open. 
There  is  an  old  woman  in  the  house — a  very  old  one,  all 
bent  and  tremulous.  She  may  leave  before  I  am  up,  and 
if  she  does  I  wish  to  know  it.  You  have  an  alarm  clock 
here?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Then  set  it  at — say  half-past  three — and  after  that  I 
want  you  to  be  where  you  can  see  any  one  who  leaves  the 
house.  Let  no  one  see  you,  not  even  Mrs.  Tiverton  ;  but 
so  station  yourself  that  you  can  see  without  being  seen. 
The  woman  may  not  go — I  only  fear  she  may/' 

"  And  you  want  me  to  stop  her,  do  you,  sir  ?" 

"  No,  no,  not  by  any  means.  I  wish  you  to  be  sure  and 
follow  her  so  as  to  be  able  to  let  me  know  where  she  is. 
Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir;  I  think  I  do." 

"  Then  don't  forget.  Mind,  I  don't  want  her  troubled 
in  the  least,  for  she  has  a  perfect  right  to  go  where  she 
pleases,  only  I  want  to  know  where  she  goes, — and  I  wish 
to  know  this  without  another  soul's  knowing  that  she  has 
been  watched.  I  think  you  can  do  it  properly  now." 

The  coachman  promised  that  it  should  all  be  done  cor- 
rectly, and  then  the  merchant  left  him,  and  reached  his 
own  chamber  without  having  been  observed. 

When  Mr.  Tiverton  awoke  in  the  morning  it  was  quite 
late.  He  arose  and  dressed  himself,  and  then  went  down 
to  his  study,  or  library,  where  he  found  the  morning  papers. 
He  touched  a  spring  which  connected  with  the  bell  in  the 
harness-room,  and  ere  long  afterwards  Thomas  made  his 
appearance. 

"Well,"  said  the  merchant ;  "close  the  door  first.  Now 
what  have  you  seen  ? " 

"  She's  gone,  sir." 

"Ah— she  has,  eh?" 

"Yes,  sir.  Went  off  just  as  the  day  was  openin' — about 
half-past  four." 

"  And  did  you  see  anything  else  ?" 

"  My  lady's  maid  went  with  her." 

"  Ah — yes.     And  did  you  follow  them  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.     I  followed  them  clear  down  to  Third  street, 


COUNTER  PLOT.  14* 

and  they  turned  into  a  little  passage  between  Avenues  B 
and  C." 

"  On  Third  street,  you  say  ? " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  But  it  seem  to  me  that  is  a  curious  place  to  carry  the 
woman." 

"  Ah — but  you  see,  Sarah  Thompson's  has  got  some 
relatives  there." 

"  That's  it,  is  it  ? "  returned  the  merchant,  who  had  no 
idea  before  about  the  connections  of  his  wife's  maid. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  And  you  can  show  me  this  place,  can  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  " 

"  Very  well — I  may  wish  to  go  down  there  during  the 
day.  Keep  this  all  to  yourself.  But  stop.  You  were  not 
observed,  were  you  ?" 

"  Oh,  no,  sir.     I  took  good  care  of  that." 

"  That  will  do.  If  my  lady  wishes  for  a  coach  to-day  you 
may  let  Dennis  go  with  her.  Mind  that  you  are  to  hold 
yourself  in  readiness  to  accompany  me.' ' 

Thomas  promised  obedience,  and  then  withdrew,  and 
Mr.  Tiverton  sat  down  to  his  papers.  At  nine  o'clock  he 
ate  his  breakfast  alone,  and  then  went  back  to  his  library, 
instead  of  going  out  as  was  his  custom.  At  ten  o'clock  he 
heard  a  footfall  in  the  parlor,  and  upon  opening  one  of  the 
glass  doors  and  entering  he  met  his  wife.  She  gave  a  sud- 
den start  as  she  saw  him,  for  she  was,  in  truth,  somewhat 
frightened. 

"  Isn't  our  old  aunt  up  yet  ? "  the  merchant  asked. 

The  wife  hesitated,  but  it  was  only  for  a  moment. 

"  She  must  be  crazy,  I  think,"  she  said  ;  "  for  she's  gone 
off,  no  one  knows  where." 

"Gone,  has  she?"  returned  the  merchant,  without  mani- 
festing much  feeling.  "  She  must  have  been  crazy  if  she 
went  away  of  her  own  accord." 

"  I  hope  you  don't  think  anybody  would  have  sent  her 
off,  sir,"  the  wife  retorted,  quite  sharply. 

"  I  should  hope  not,  Julia." 

"  Well — I  should  hope  not,  too.  So  we  both  hope 
alike." 

Having  spoken  this,  in  a  sharp,  bitter  tone,  the  woman 
turrje4  and  left  the  parlor,  A  dark,  painful  shade  passed 


142  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEA  TER. 

over  Paul  Tiverton's  face,  for  he  knew  too  well  that  hi§  wife 
spoke  falsely. 

Oh!  what  must  be  the  bitterness  of  that  heart  which  is 
thus  betrayed  !  What  a  night  must  gather  about  the  soul 
of  him  who  cannot  even  claim  his  wife's  truth  !  Falsehood 
is  dark  and  drear  at  any  time  ;  but  the  deliberate  lie  that 
falls  from  the  wife's  lips  for  the  husband's  ear  is  doubly 
dark,  for  it  freezes  the  warm  tide  of  love,  and  withers  every 
flower  of  life ! 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

DISAPPOINTMENT. — THE   DAWN  OF  LOVE. 

IT  was  on  a  Friday  afternoon  that  Orion  Lindell  called  at 
Mr.  Tiverton's  counting-house  to  see  the  merchant. 

He  found  that  gentleman  in,  and  at  once  stated  to  him  the 
position  in  which  he  had  left  Constance  Milmer  and  her 
child.  He  related  the  circumstances  attending  the  poor 
book-binder's  death,  and  the  subsequent  events  of  the 
funeral. 

"  And  now,"  said  he,  "  I  have  promised  to  find  her  some 
place  where  she  can  earn  a  livelihood.  Were  it  not  that 
Miss  Durand  is  at  our  house  I  should  take  her  there  at 
once,  and  get  work  for  her.  She  is  an  expert  sewer,  and  I 
am  sure  I  could  easily  find  plenty  for  her  to  do,  for  females 
who  are  competent  to  do  the  finest  of  work  are  in  demand. 
But  at  present  I  must  make  some  other  provision  for  her. 
She  must  not  remain  where  she  is.  Why,  sir,  just  listen 
one  moment  to  the  annoyances  she  is  subject  to  there  : 
And  thereupon  the  youth  related  the  circumstances  attend- 
ing the  stealing  of  the  poor  woman's  clothes. 

The  merchant  shuddered  as  he  heard  the  strange  story. 
He  could  hardly  realize  that  such  things  were  done. 

"  Ah,  sir,  those  who  do  not  see  and  hear  for  themselves 
can  form  no  idea  of  the  terrible  life  a  virtuous  woman  is 
forced  to  lead  in  that  pool  of  pestilence  and  sin  !  But  I 
have  come  here  to  see  if  you  could  not  help  me  in  this 
work.  If  I  have  ventured  too  far — if  I  have  intruded  upon 
you — say  so,  and  I  will  withdraw  at  once.  But  your  kind- 
ness to  me— the  interest  I  have  seen  you  manifest  for  a 


DISAPPOINTMENT.— THE  DAWN  OF  LOVE.      H3 

suffering  fellow-creature,  led  me  to  this  bold  step.  I  hoped 
you  might,  through  the  assistance  of  some  of  the  female 
members  of  your  family,  find  some  work  for  Mrs.  Milmer 
until  I  could  take  her  to  my  own  home." 

Mr.  Tiverton  pondered  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  he 
said,  while  his  face  brightened  : 

"  I  can  find  just  what  you  desire  in  my  own  house,  sir. 
I  remember  now  that  my  wife  and  daughter  both  have  a 
great  deal  of  fine  sewing  which  must  be  done,  and  I  think 
they  have  found  no  one  to  do  it  yet — in  fact,  I  know  they 
have  not.  Do  you  think  this  woman  can  do  very  nice 
work?" 

'*  I  know  she  can,  sir." 

"  Then  you  can  bring  her  directly  here.  But  when  will 
it  be  ? " 

"I  am  to  call  for  her  to-morrow." 

'•  Then  bring  her  here  at  noon  to-morrow,  and  I  will  take 
her  to  my  house.  I  will  venture  to  assume  so  much  respon- 
sibility. Will  you  do  so  ?  " 

"  I  will,  sir." 

"  Is  this  Mrs.  Milmer  in  any  way  connected  with  your 
family  ?  "  the  merchant  asked. 

"  Not  at  all,  sir.  I  never  saw  her  until  I  carried  her 
child  home  to  her  on  the  day  that  you  first  honored  our 
humble  home  by  your  presence." 

"  Ah,  none  of  that,"  uttered  Tiverton,  with  a  faint  smile. 
"  You  wrong  yourself  when  you  claim  as  an  honor  the  mere 
presence  of  one,  whose  only  known  recommendation  to  you 
is,  that  he  represents  wealth." 

"  I  think  I  am  right,  sir,"  persisted  Orion,  "  for  be  as- 
sured that,  had  I  found  you  only  the  proud,  stiff  represen- 
tative of  wealth,  I  should  never  have  felt  as  I  now  feel. 
But  I  would  never  seek  to  destroy  that  impulse  in  society 
which  leads  the  more  humble  to  honor  wealth  when  it  is 
associated  with  goodness.  However,  to  answer  your  ques- 
tion, Mrs:  Milmer  was  an  utter  stranger  to  me  on  that 
occasion  ;  but  an  own  sister  could  hardly  have  claimed 
more  of  my  care.  The  story  of  her  sufferings  touched  me 
deeply." 

The  merchant  reached  forth  and  grasped  the  youth's 
hand,  and  as  he  did  so  he  said  : 

"  If  I  should  tell  you  how  much  I  honor  you  it  might 


144  OK  ION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

call  a  blush  to  your  face,  and  I  won't  do  it.  But  I  will 
help  you  all  I  can.  You  may  bring  the  poor  woman  here, 
and  I  will  see  that  she  is  provided  for,  for  the  present,  at 
all  events." 

Orion  thanked  him  for  his  kindness,  and  then  took  his 
leave,  and  returned  to  his  shop. 

On  the  following  day,  at  eleven  o'clock,  he  started  for 
the  Five  Points.  He  ascended  the  old  stairway  on  the 
outside  of  the  house,  and  made  his  way  through  the  long 
dark  passage.  When  he  came  to  where  he  supposed  the 
door  was  he  knocked;  but  he  received  no  answer.  He 
knocked  once  more,  but  with  the  same  success.  He  at 
length  succeeded  in  finding  the  latch,  and  the  door  was 
opened  without  difficulty.  He  entered  the  narrow  apart- 
ment, but  it  was  empty  of  life  !  The  floor  was  covered 
with  water,  and  everything  looked  drear  and  dismal.  At 
first  our  hero  feared  something  wrong  had  happened,  but 
when  he  came  to  think  of  the  water  upon  the  floor,  and 
remembered  that  it  must  have  come  through  the  roof  dur- 
ing the  severe  storm  of  the  night,  he  concluded  that  the 
poor  widow  had  sought  shelter  at  the  Mission.  She  had 
promised  him  that  she  would  go  there  if  she  wanted  assist- 
ance, and  he  resolved  to  seek  her  there. 

Orion  found  the  clerk,  and  of  him  he  inquired  if  Mrs. 
Milmer  and  her  child  were  there. 

"  No,"  returned  the  official.  "  She  came  here  yesterday 
afternoon  and  got  some  food,  but  she  did  not  stop  long." 

"  Food  ? "  repeated  Orion.  "  Had  she  got  out  of 
food  ? " 

"  Ah — she  had  a  very  accommodating  visitor  in  the  morn- 
ing," explained  the  clerk.  And  thereupon  he  related  the 
circumstances  attending  the  visit  of  old  Santa  Snuggins,  as 
he  had  heard  them  from  the  widow's  own  lips. 

Orion  was  deeply  moved  by  what  he  thus  heard,  and  it 
was  some  moments  ere  he  could  speak.  He  not  only  felt 
sadly  annoyed  by  the  robbery,  but  he  feared  that  some  deep 
evil  had  since  befallen  his  charge.  The  clerk  could  tell 
him  nothing  at  all  of  the  widow's  movements  since  she  left 
the  Mission,  so  he  arose  and  concluded  to  return  to  the 
old  house  and  make  inquiries  there.  He  went  up  first  to 
the  room  where  he  had  seen  the  three  drunken  women. 
Their  apartment  was  next  to  the  one  which  had  been  occu- 


DISAPPOINTMENT.— THE  DAWN  OF  LOVE.      145 

pied  by  Constance,  though  there  was  no  communication 
between  them,  one  being  in  the  back  part  of  the  main 
house,  and  the  other,  as  we  have  said  before,  only  the  loft 
of  what  was  once  a  mere  shed. 

He  knocked  at  the  door,  and  it  was  opened  by  a  little,  old, 
worn-out  child.  Only  one  of  the  women  was  in,  and  as  she 
saw  the  young  man  she  bade  him  come  in.  His  heart 
sank  within  him  as  he  entered  the  accursed  place,  and  for 
the  moment  it  seemed  as  though  the  stench  would  over- 
come him.  Disease  was  rank  in  the  foul  atmosphere,  and 
filth  lay  upon  the  floor,  clung  to  the  walls,  and  even  hung 
from  the  black  ceiling  ! 

"  Did  you  know  the  woman  who  lived  in  the  next  room 
here  ? "  Orion  asked,  as  soon  as  he  dared  to  open  his 
mouth. 

"  I've  seed  her,"  returned  the  woman,  in  a  hollow,  rumb- 
ling tone  of  voice.  "Ye  mean  she  as  had  her  man  kick 
the  rope  jest  a  bit  ago  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Orion.  "And  do  you  know  where  she  is 
now  ? " 

The  woman  gazed  up  into  her  visitor's  face  with  a  sort 
of  vacant  stare,  and  after  some  moments  of  pondering  she 
replied  : 

"  Say,  I  s'pose  ye'd  like  to  know  all  ye  can  'bout  her, 
wouldn't  ye  ? " 

"Yes,  of  course." 

"  Then  'twould  be  worth  sumth'n'  to  yer,  wouldn't  it  ?  " 
added  the  old  wretch,  with  a  glaring  twinkle  of  the  red 
eyes. 

Orion  saw  her  meaning,  and,  hiding  his  disgust  as  well  as 
he  could,  he  said  : 

"  If  you  can  give  me  any  information  that  is  of  use  to  me, 
I'll  pay  you  for  it." 

"  How  much  '11  yer  gi'  me  ?  " 

"Two  shillings." 

"  Wai — then  I  suspicions  'at  the  'ooman  was  took  off  last 
night.  There  was  a  coach,  wid  two  hosses,  come  here,  an' 
two  men  come  up  to  her  room — an'  I  heerd  'em  talkin' — an' 
bumby  they  come  out,  and  the  coach  was  druv  off.  That's 
all  I  ken  tell  you.  Now  let's  hev  the  two  shill'n's." 

Our  hero  handed  her  the  money,  and  then  turned  from 
the  place.  He  stopped  upon  the  sidewalk  only  a  moment 


146  ORION,   THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

to  think,  and  then  hastened  up  to  the  Tombs.  He  found 
the  clerk  of  the  Police  Court,  and  learned  that  Duffy 
Glicker  and  Bill  Slumpkey  had  been  simply  placed  under 
bonds  for  keeping  the  peace.  He  then  lodged  information 
of  what  had  transpired,  stating  that  Mrs.  Milmer  and  her 
child  had  been  abducted  for  some  villainous  purpose,  and 
that  he  had  the  best  of  reasons  for  believing  that  the  afore- 
mentioned villains  had  done  it.  The  officers  promised  to 
do  what  they  could,  and  then  the  youth  took  his  leave. 

From  the  Tombs  he  went  at  once  to  the  counting-house 
of  the  merchant,  where  he  informed  Mr.  Tiverton  of  the 
unfortunate  state  of  affairs  he  had  found.  The  latter  was 
really  pained  at  this  result,  and  entered  at  once  into  the 
spirit  of  Orion's  plans. 

"  This  is  most  strange,"  he  said,  after  a  pause  of  some 
moments.  "  Misfortune  seems  to  claim  the  poor  woman  as 
a  victim.  But  have  you  no  idea  of  what  this  villain's  plans 
are — what  his  object  is — in  thus  abducting  the  poor 
widow  ?" 

"  I  can  not  imagine,  I  am  sure,"  the  youth  returned. 
"  All  I  know  is  that  he  has  some  paper  in  his  possession 
which  relates  to  her.  Once  when  he  was  pretty  well  under 
the  influence  of  liquor  he  showed  her  the  paper,  and  told 
her  it  contained  something  of  great  importance  to  her. 
But  he  would  not  let  her  see  what  was  in  it.  I  have  some- 
times imagined  that  he  might  possess  some  secret  of  hers 
which  she  would  not  wish  to  have  known  and  that  he  meant 
to  hold  it  over  her  as  a  means  of  frightening  her  into 
marrying  him.  She  is  really  a  handsome  woman,  and  many 
a  man  far  above  Duffy  Glicker  would  be  glad  to  have  her 
for  a  wife." 

"  And^  have  you  ever  thought  of  any  other  meaning  that 
this  mysterious  paper  might  have  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Orion,  "  I  have  also  thought  it  possible 
that  Mrs.  Milmer  might  have  some  money  somewhere — 
some  legacy  left  to  her — of  which  she  had  no  knowledge  ; 
and  that  this  Glicker  had  by  some  means  become  possessed 
of  the  instrument  containing  the  information.  He  has 
traveled  about  the  country  considerably,  and  has  seen 
much  of  the  world  ;  and,  for  all  his  low,  degraded  villainy, 
I  think  he  possesses  a  fair  degree  of  shrewdness.  The 
more  I  dwell  upon  this  view  of  the  subject  the  more  in- 


DISAPPOINTMENT.— THE  DAWN  OF  LOVE.      M7 

clined  I  am  to  think  it  the  correct  one.  dicker  may  have 
seen,  during  some  of  his  wanderings  about  the  country,  a 
notice— or  he  may  have  heard  some  question — asking  for 
information  touching  this  woman.  Then  he  may  have 
claimed  to  know  her — perhaps  claimed  that  he  was  her 
intimate  friend — and  thus  have  gained  a  knowledge  of  the 
good  fortune  which  belonged  to  Mrs.  Milmer  ;  and,  having 
got  information,  with  the  documentary  proof,  he  now  seeks 
to  gain  her  for  a  companion  ere  he  informs  her  of  the  fact. 
This  is  mere  surmise,  but  to  me  as  reasonable  as  anything 
else  I  can  think  of." 

"  It  seems  not  only  possible,"  returned  the  merchant, 
"  but  even  probable,  that  such  might  be  the  case.  I  hope, 
however,  we  may  succeed  in  finding  her  before  the  villain 
accomplishes  his  foul  purpose.  What  a  life  she  would  lead 
tied  to  such  a  wretch  !  " 

"  Dreadful !  "  responded  Orion,  with  a  shudder.  "  How- 
ever, I  know  of  nothing  more  that  I  can  do  for  the  present. 
I  should  not  know  which  way  to  turn  in  search  of  the 
scamp  ;  but  the  police  will  soon  be  on  his  track,  I  am  sure  ; 
and  when  once  they  get  their  eyes  upon  him  they  will  not 
be  long  in  finding  his  haunt." 

After  a  few  more  words  of  conversation,  Orion  promised 
to  keep  the  merchant  informed  of  important  particulars  as 
they  should  transpire,  and  left  the  counting-house.  He 
returned  to  his  shop,  where  he  squared  up  the  affairs  of  the 
week,  and  then  started  for  home. 

The  Sabbath  dawned  bright  and  clear,  and  Ellen  Durand 
was  for  the  first  time  able  to  sit  up.  A  large,  easy  chair 
was  prepared,  and  she  took  her  seat  close  by  the  window, 
where  she  could  gaze  out  upon  the  varied  life  that  passed 
up  and  down  the  thoroughfare.  It  was  almost  the  first 
Sabbath  of  the  season  that  had  seen  the  streets  perfectly 
dry,  and  the  air  warm  and  pleasant.  So  the  carriages  were 
constantly  passing  and  repassing — coaches,  wagons,  buggies, 
gigs — some  driven  soberly  and  carefully,  as  though  those 
who  rode  only  sought  the  comforts  of  the  trp — while  others 
came  dashing  by  at  race-horse  speed,  showing  that  the 
jehus  were  proving  the  bottom  of  their  animals.  It  was  a 
lively  bustling  scene,  though  hardly  in  keeping  with  the 
character  of  the  holy  day. 

The  fair  invalid  gazed  upon  the  swiftly  changing  pang- 


148  ORION,    THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

rama  of  humanity  until  she  tired  of  it,  and  then  she  turned 
towards  her  kind  nurse  and  asked  her  if  Orion  was  in. 
Mrs.  Lindell  replied  in  the  affirmative,  and  then  the  maiden 
asked  if  he  would  not  come  up  and  sit  with  her  awhile. 
The  mother  said  she  was  sure  he  would  be  pleased  to  do  so  ; 
and  having  thus  spoken  she  left  the  room. 

Ere  long  Orion  Lindell  entered  the  chamber.  Ellen 
greeted  him  warmly,  and  her  cheeks  glowed  with  a  warmer 
color  as  he  took  a  seat  near  her.  Our  hero  had  not  before 
seen  the  maiden's  beauty  as  he  saw  it  now.  Returning 
strength  had  filled  out  her  fair  cheeks  ;  and  now  that  she 
was  habited  in  her  light  silken  robe  he  could  see  the  per- 
fect gracefulness  and  symmetry  of  her  form  and  feature. 
His  own  face  grew  brighter  in  its  grateful  expression  as  he 
gazed  now  upon  the  beautiful  girl,  and  a  strange  beating 
of  the  heart  told  that  the  emotion  he  experienced  was  one 
deeper  than  mere  pleasure. 

After  a  few  remarks  upon  the  subject  of  the  day — the 
weather,  the  open  spring,  the  early  flowers,  and  the  whirl 
of  life  in  the  street — the  conversation  turned  upon  the 
theme  of  lectures.  Orion  spoke  of  one  he  had  commenced 
to  read  in  one  of  the  city  papers — a  lecture  which  had  been 
delivered  in  the  city,  and  reported  verbatim  in  the  paper. 

"  Have  you  finished  reading  it  ?  "  asked  Ellen. 

"  No,"  returned  Orion.     "  I  have  just  commenced  it." 

"  Why  not  read  it  to  me  ?  "  returned  the  maiden,  with  a 
wistful  smile. 

"  I  will  do  so  with  pleasure,  if  you  wish,"  said  the  youth. 

"  I  should  be  very  much  gratified  to  have  you  do  so,  I 
am  sure  ;  for  the  doctor  says  I  must  not  read  yet." 

Orion  hastened  away,  and  soon  returned  with  the  paper 
in  his  hand.  The  subject  of  the  lecture  was  "  The  True 
Life  and  the  False."  It  was  a  noble  production,  and  our 
hero  read  it  in  a  rich,  melodious  tone  of  voice,  and  with  an 
eloquence  which  would  have  surely  inspired  the  author 
with  gratitude  could  he  have  heard  it.  The  theme  was  of 
Life  in  its  high,  living  sense — of  the  Life  which  makes  its 
mark,  and  has  a  deep  meaning.  As  the  reader  progressed 
he  entered  warmly  into  the  spirit  of  the  argument,  and  had 
his  face  and  conversation  never  before  revealed  his  heart, 
this  hour  of  reading  would  have  done  it.  Upon  his  hand- 
some face  his  feelings  were  pictured  as  upon  a  scroll,  and 


DISAPPOINTMENT.— THE  DAWN  OF  LOVE.      149 

the  shades  of  emotion  came  and  went  as  various  points  of 
moment  were  touched  upon.  The  noble,  generous,  Chris- 
tian sentiments  were  poured  from  his  lips  with  a  power  of 
feeling  and  sympathy  which  showed  how  deeply  they  moved 
him  ;  while  the  censures  of  hypocrisy  and  hardness  of  heart 
rolled  from  his  tongue  in  shuddering  accents,  and  called 
the  glow  of  indignation  to  his  face. 

For  some  time  after  he  had  closed  there  was  a  profound 
silence,  which  was  at  length  broken  by  the  maiden. 

"  Oh,  that  is  a  noble  composition  !"  she  uttered,  in  a  warm, 
emphatic  tone ;  "  and  what  a  pity  it  is  that  so  few  under- 
stand the  truths  there  set  forth,  so  clearly  and  ably.  Only 
think  how  few  really  know  anything  of  the  great  joys  of 
the  True  Life.  See  our  hosts  of  humanity  on  the  great 
sea,  struggling  for  wealth,  for  honor,  and  for  fame,  and  all 
the  while  forgetting  that  for  the  inner  life  they  are  making 
no  provisions.  Ah — the  time  shall  surely  come  when  they 
would  willingly  give  all  their  worldly  stores  for  one  single 
hour  of  the  Great  Life  they  have  neglected  !  When  earth 
is  fading  from  the  mortal  eye — when  this  frail  tenement  of 
clay  is  fast  crumbling — when  the  friends  of  earth  are 
gathered  about  the  dying  bed,  and  when  the  principle  we 
have  called  life  is  gradually  relinquishing  its  hold  upon  the 
spirit — then  what  is  all  this  store  of  earthly  wealth  ?  Oh  ! 
then  how  triumphant  the  soul  of  him  who  has  learned  to 
live  the  TRUE  LIFE  !  " 

A  tear  glistened  in  the  maiden's  eye  as  she  ceased 
speaking,  and  for  the  while  Orion  was  charmed  even  to 
silence.  Never  before  had  he  seen  anything  so  lovely  as 
that  fair  face  appeared  to  him  then.  There  was  a  pure, 
soul-given  beauty,  which  claimed  not  the  aid  of  mere  form 
to  make  it  sublime. 

"  I  have  often  thought  of  these  things,"  he  at  length 
said  ;  "  and  I  have  even  wondered  that  so  many  should 
look  with  a  sort  of  dread  upon  everything  pertaining  to  the 
Inner  Life.  The  great  trouble  is,  that  so  many  people  look 
upon  God's  laws  as  something  awful,  and  upon  obedience 
to  them  as  something  which  must  necessarily  deprive  them 
of  much  real  enjoyment.  They  do  not  realize  that  all  the 
divine  laws  are  for  man's  highest  good,  and  that  his 
government  is  that  of  a  loving  Parent  over  his  children. 
Why,  think  of  it !  "  continued  the  youth,  with  a  kindling 


15°  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

eye  ;  "  how  much  of  pure  joy  is  lost  through  this  failing  in 
man.  Suppose  men  would  resolve  that  certain  hours  of 
each  day  should  be  devoted  to  the  calm  and  peaceful  study 
of  the  Great  Goodness.  Suppose  this  busy,  bustling  man, 
when  he  retired  to  the  bosom  of  his  family,  would  throw  off 
the  dust  of  the  outer  world,  forget  all  its  troubles  and  its 
turmoils,  and  devote  those  hours  of  social  communion  to 
themes  of  peace  and  love,  so  that  his  gentle  partner  might 
find  true  joy  in  his  companionship  and  his  children  learn 
wisdom  from  him.  But  alas  !  they  will  not  do  it.  The 
glare  and  glitter  of  gold — the  heat  and  fray  of  outer  life — 
the  strife  and  turmoil  of  business,  and  the  affairs  of  the 
clanging  and  clashing  world,  are  constantly  with  them — 
carried  into  the  home  circle,  into  the  social  gathering,  and 
even  into  the  church  of  God.  Man  can  not  be  truly  hap- 
py so." 

Ellen  gazed  up  into  the  speaker's  face  with  a  rapt  look, 
and  her  every  expression  told  that  she  was  charmed  with 
what  she  had  heard. 

"  Ah,"  she  uttered,  "  you  speak  truly — very  truly.  I  think 
that  most  of  the  faults  which  the  wife  has — or  at  least 
many  of  them — so  far  as  faults  of  fashion  and  of  society 
are  concerned,  are  the  result  of  the  husband's  finding  no 
relief  from  outer  strife  in  her  society.  When  the  wife  finds 
out  that  her  husband  thinks  of  business,  business,  and 
nothing  but  business — and  that  the  quiet  calm  of  the  home 
retreat  is  broken  in  upon  by  his  troubles  of  the  day — how 
can  she  feel  that  pride  and  satisfaction  in  her  labors  of  love 
which  she  has  a  right  to  expect  ?  I  do  not  mean  that  a 
husband  should  not  confer  with  his  wife  on  business 
matters,  for  it  is  one  of  the  highest,  noblest  aims  of  the 
true  wife  to  be  worthy  of  her  companion's  conduct  in  this 
respect ;  but  I  mean  that  he  should  not  bring  all  his 
troubles  and  trials  of  the  great  conflict  of  earth  into  his 
family  circle  to  the  exclusion  of  all  its  legitimate  comfort. 
I  think  many  children  are  prevented  from  forming  deep 
moral  and  religious  characters  simply  by  their  habit  of 
making  home  the  theater  of  preparation  only  for  the 
business  and  toil  of  outer  life." 

And  so  they  talked  on.  When  the  dinner  hour  came. 
Ellen  asked  her  companion  if  he  would  not  come  back  and 
keep  her  company  during  the  afternoon. 


THE  PRISONERS.  151 

*  I  do  not  ask  it  as  a  right/  she  said,  smiling  ;  "  but  as 
a  favor.  I  have  been  so  long  shut  up  here  that  your  con- 
versation is  inspiring  and  blessed  to  me.  I  wish  you  would 
bring  a  good  book — one  that  would  suit  the  day,  and  at  the 
same  time  be  interesting." 

Orion  promised,  and  as  he  went  away  he  forgot  all  else 
of  life,  save  that  he  was  very  happy.  When  he  had  eaten 
his  dinner  he  went  to  his  small  library,  and  having  searched 
for  a  long  while  for  the  book  he  would  take  up,  he  at  length 
took  the  Bible.  He  had  other  books  of  moral  worth,  but 
he  could  not  select  from  them,  and  he  though  nothing 
would  be  more  appropriate,  or  more  interesting,  than  to 
read  select  portions  of  Holy  Writ,  and  then  converse  upon 
them.  When  he  resumed  his  seat  by  the  maiden's  side,  and 
saw  the  bright  smile  which  came  to  her  face  as  he  showed 
her  the  book,  he  was  glad  he  had  selected  it. 

The  afternoon  passed  away  calmly  and  happily,  and 
when  night  came  there  were  two  strangely  joyful  souls 
beneath  that  roof.  When  Orion  laid  his  head  upon  his 
pillow  that  night  he  had  admitted  a  new  emotion  to  his 
soul.  It  was  a  deep,  thrilling  emotion — one  that  found  its 
way  to  every  avenue  of  feeling,  encompassing  the  whole 
heart,  and  sending  its  beams  of  hope  away  into  the  future, 
through  all  the  years  of  coming  life. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE    PRISONERS. 

pONSTANCE  MILMER  and  her  child  were  alone  in  the 
\j  small  chamber  to  which  they  had  been  confined.  It 
was  early  morning,  and  both  had  been  weeping.  The 
room  was  a  much  better  one  than  that  from  which  they  had 
been  taken,  but  alas  !  like  the  gilded  cage,  it  was  all  misery 
and  anguish  to  them.  Over  the  mind  of  the  mother 
brooded  a  shapeless  fear,  but  yet  dark  and  terrible  ;  and 
the  child  knew  its  parent  was  unhappy,  and  was  hence 
unhappy,  too.  But  that  child  had  some  idea  of  the  terror^ 
also,  which  was  present  with  them,  and  in  its  little  mind 
were  fears  which  she  would  not  speak.  She  had  a  dreadful 


/5 2  ORION,   THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

phantasy  working  in  her  waking  hours,  and  in  her  dreamy 
slumbers,  that  the  dark,  wicked  man  who  had  brought 
them  there  meant  to  be  her  father  !  She  could  not  com- 
prehend how  this  was  to  be  brought  about,  nor  had  she 
heard  the  thing  plainly  spoken  ;  but  the  thought  had  found 
its  way  to  her  mind,  and  the  more  she  pondered  upon  it, 
the  more  sure  was  she  that  the  great  calamity  which  hung 
over  them  took  that  shape. 

In  the  room  was  a  rough  lounge,  covered  with  dingy 
cotton  print,  worn  to  many  holes,  through  which  the  matted 
cotton  protruded,  the  whole  well  covered  with  dirt  and 
grease.  Upon  this  the  mother  and  child  were  seated,  the 
little  one  being  clasped  to  her  parent's  bosom,  They  had 
just  wiped  away  their  tears,  and  Lizzie  had  said  that  she 
was  hungry,  when  a  footfall  was  heard  near  the  door,  and 
ere  long  a  woman  entered  with  a  tray  in  her  hands.  She 
was  not  an  old  woman,  but  she  was  far  from  looking  like  a 
young  one,  and  her  form,  features  and  dress  put  the  poor 
widow  in  mind  of  the  locality  she  had  left.  Her  face  was 
broad  and  coarse,  with  the  marks  of  the  liquid  fiend  plainly 
drawn  upon  it,  while  its  expression  was  ugly  and  sinister. 
Her  breath  smelt  strongly  of  rum,  though  she  had  not 
drunk  enough  to  make  her  unsteady,  her  morning  potations 
having  only  loosened  her  tongue  so  that  she  said  things 
which  she  might  have  kept  to  herself  had  she  been  perfectly 
sober.  The  tray  had  upon  it  two  cups  of  coffee,  a  tin  can 
of  milk,  some  bread  and  butter,  and  a  few  slices  of  cold 
corned  beef.  The  food  looked  clean  and  healthy,  though 
the  dishes  might  have  been  improved  in  appearance  by  the 
application  of  soap  and  water.  The  woman  placed  the  tray 
upon  the  bureau,  and  then  turned  upon  the  inmates. 

"  Ho,  ho  !  "  she  uttered,  with  that  intonation  peculiar  to 
the  more  abrupt  and  fearless  of  Erin's  daughters,  "  isn't 
ye's  glad  to  see  me  wid  yer  breakfast,  ye  waitin',  longin' 
mortals,  ye  ?  Ho  !  I'm  Biddy  Mugget,  ye  misfortinate 
creturs,  ye.  I've  got  nary  a  chick  nor  a  chilt  in  the  worlt, 
and  I  loves  to  feed  the  likes  ov  ye's — so  fur  that  self-same 
reason  did  Misthur  Glicker  bid  me  look  afther  ye's.  He 
knowd — bless  his  good,  kind  sowl  —  'at  I'd  be  delighted  to 
take  the  most  ixcillent  care  of  ye's.  Now  here's  yer 
breakfast,  all  pipin'  hot,  an*  I  hope  ye're  thankful.  Yes,  let 
me  tell  ye,  it's  Biddy  Mugget  has  seen  the  time  she'd  fall 


THE  PRISONERS.  153 

down  upon  her  knees  for  the  likes  ov  this  food  ye  now  have 
for  nothing  at  all  at  all.  Ho  !  bad  luck  to  them  as  wouldn't 
be  thankful  for  sich  care." 

Constance  was  at  a  loss  how  to  take  the  woman.  Her 
language  was  good-natured,  but  yet  there  was  a  look  in  her 
eye,  and  in  her  coarse  features,  which  seemed  to  preclude 
the  possibility  of  any  goodness  of  heart.  Still  she  resolved 
to  speak. 

"  My  good  woman —  " 

"  Arah,  me  leddy — don't  go  for  to  come  that  !  "  broke  in 
Miss  Mugget.  "  It  won't  be  of  no  use.  I  see  yer  intent. 
Ye's  aint  half  thankful  for  the  fine  home  ye're  got.  Mind, 
it's  yer  mornin's  male  I've  brought  ye." 

Constance  shrank  back,  for  she  plainly  saw  that  the 
woman  had  no  spark  of  real  kindness  within.  But  not  so 
little  Lizzie.  She  had  been  so  long  accustomed  to  ugly 
faces,  that  they  alone  did  not  frighten  her.  It  was  the 
brutal,  wicked  language  that  struck  terror  to  her  soul.  So 
when  she  heard  this  woman  speak  in  such  a  kind  tone,  she 
thought  she  must  have  some  spark  of  good  feeling  in  her. 
Upon  this  impulse  she  rushed  forward  and  caught  her  by 
the  wrist. 

u  Oh,  good  lady,"  she  cried,  in  prayerful,  hopeful  accents, 
u  you  won't  keep  my  mamma  in  this  place.  You  will  let 
her  go,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  And  yerself  '11  stay  here  wid  me,  eh  ?  " 

"  No,  no,"  uttered  the  child,  half  frightened.  "  Oh  no — 
my  mamma  would  be  very  unhappy  without  me.  Oh,  do 
let  us  go!" 

"  Let  ye  go  ?     An  'where  would  ye's  go  to,  eh  ?  " 

"  Oh — we  have  good  friends." 

"  Aye — I'll  swear  to  that,  me  fine  chilt  ;  for  it's  meself  as 
knows  ye's  got  us,  the  best  of  friends,  in  this  very  house,, 
D'ye  mind  that  now  ?  Och,  my  swate,  dear,  beautiful, 
darlinist  of  all  darlin'  creturs,  ye  would'nt  go  for  to  be  so 
cruel  enthirely  as  to  go  off  an'  lave  us  to  mourn  for  ye's. 
No,  no,  ye'll  stay  wid  us,  heart's  delight — ye  will.  Ye  won't 
lave  us,  me  little  peppermint,  will  ye's  ?  Ah,  I  knew  ye 
wouldn't.  What !  a  swate  little  cretur  like  ye's  lave  Biddy 
Mugget  ?  The  Blessed  Virgin  niver  heard  of  such  a 
thing — niver." 

The  child   was   for  the  moment    confounded    by    this 


154  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

harangue,  but  her  mother  called  her  away,  and  she  said  no 
more.  As  soon  as  Lizzie  had  left  her,  the  woman  turned 
again  to  the  mother. 

"  Ov  coorse,"  she  said,  "  ye's  does'nt  think  ov  lavin'  this 
fine  place.  Ye've  no  idea  how  illegantly  ye'll  be  threated 
here.  It'll  be  like  a  palis  to  ye's,  and  moreover,  ye'll  be 
thrated  like  a  quane.  What  does  ye  think  ov  that,  eh  ?" 

"  I  think  I  shall  be  obliged  to  remain  here  until  I  am 
allowed  to  go,"  returned  Mrs.  Milmer,  very  calmly  and 
quietly. 

"  So  I  think,"  added  Miss  Mugget,  and  with  this  she  left 
the  apartment,  locking  the  door  after  her. 

As  soon  as  the  woman  was  gone,  Lizzie  began  to  cry. 
She  threw  her  little  arms  about  her  mother's  neck,  and 
hiding  her  face  away  in  her  bosom,  she  sobbed  as  though 
her  heart  would  break. 

"  Hush — hush,  my  darling,"  whispered  Constance  clasp- 
ing the  little  one  to  her  breast.  "  We  may  get  clear  of  this 
place  yet.  Don't  think  of  it,  my  child.  Only  think  of  God, 
and  remember  that  he  is  more  powerful  than  these  wicked 
people." 

The  child  gazed  up,  and  having  wiped  away  the  tears, 
she  said,  in  an  anxious,  troubled  tone. 

"  Why  don't  God  let  us  go  from  this  place,  mamma,  if  he 
is  so  good  and  kind  ?  What  makes  him  let  those  wicked 
people  keep  us  here  ? " 

Constance  Milmer  had  often  asked  herself  just  such 
questions  as  these,  and  once  they  had  troubled  her;  but 
now  they  were  clear  enough  to  her  mind.  Yet  she  wondered 
if  her  child  would  comprehend  her  meaning  if  she 
explained. 

"  I  fear  you  would  not  understand,  my  child,  if  I  were 
to  explain  this,"  she  at  length  said  to  the  little  one. 

"  Yes  I  should,  mamma,"  Lizzie  eagerly  cried.  "  Oh,  why 
is  it  ?  What  does  God  keep  us  here  for  ?  If  we  try  to  be 
good,  and  love  him,  and  obey  him,  and  do  just  as  well  as 
we  can,  what  does  he  let  wicked  people  abuse  us  for  ?  " 

"  Let  us  eat  our  breakfast,  darling,  and  I'll  explain  to 
you  while  we  are  eating." 

So  they  placed  the  tray  upon  the  little  light-stand  which 
stood  in  the  room,  and  after  they  had  sat  down  the  mother 
said  : 


THE   PRISONERS.  155 

"  You  know  that  God  is  very  good  and  has  done  all  that 
could  be  done  for  our  happiness.  But  true  happiness  does 
not  always  consist  in  the  mere  outward  comforts  of  the 
body.  God  could  not  govern  his  great  world  by  making 
laws  for  each  particular  individual.  Just  think  what  a 
clashing — what  a  knotty  state  of  things  there  would  be  if 
this  were  the  case.  But  God  has  made  his  laws  general 
and  perfect,  and  if  all  men  obeyed  those  laws  we  should  all 
be  very  happy.  Now  don't  you  understand  that  the  social 
nature  is  very  necessary  to  our  enjoyment  ?  Don't  you 
understand  that  if  we  had  no  friends — that  if  each  person 
was  alone  and  separate — living  all  solitary  and  single — we 
should  be  very  miserable  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  uttered  the  child  earnestly. 

"  Well,  now  just  see.  These  social  laws  are  necessary  to 
our  happiness,  and  these  very  laws  make  us  dependent 
upon  each  other  for  good  and  for  joy.  But  when  these 
laws  are  perverted — I  mean  when  they  are  put  to  a  bad  use 
— when  men  use  their  social  relations  for  evil  purposes — 
then  the  very  means  which  a  good,  wise  God  adapted  for 
our  brightest  earthly  blessings  are  turned  to  wrong  and 
misery.  Do  you  understand?" 

"  I  think  I  do,  mamma." 

"  Then  you  understand  that  a  wise  Being  cannot  make  a 
clashing  of  his  own  laws,  and  were  he  to  relieve  us  from 
the  dangers  of  such  things  as  we  now  suffer  he  would  have 
to  take  away  our  social  enjoyments,  because  while  we 
depend  upon  upon  others  for  joy  we  cannot  expect  to  escape 
the  consequences  of  others'  wickedness.  But,  my  child, 
there  is  a  consideration  above  this.  What  would  hire  you 
to  be  just  such  a  woman  as  the  one  who  came  in  here  ? " 

"  Oh — nothing  !  "  cried  Lizzie,  shuddering.  "  I  remem- 
ber what  you  said  about  the  wicked  woman  who  robbed  us. 
Oh — I  would  rather  die  than  be  such  a  woman  as  that." 

"  Then  just  think,  my  child,  how  much  you  enjoy  that 
they  cannot.  There  is  no  suffering  so  bad  as  that  which 
comes  from  a  wicked  heart.  If  we  are  conscious — that  is, 
if  we  are  sure — that  we  do  as  near  right  as  we  can,  we  may 
be  happy." 

Thus  the  mother  talked  to  her  child,  and  she  felt  all  that 
she  said.  Yet  there  was  one  fear  which  no  amount  of 
resignation  she  could  command  would  allay.  When  she 


I56  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

called  Duffy  Glicker  to  mind,  and  thought  of  his  fell  pur- 
pose, she  was  only  able  to  pray  that  God  would  save  her 
from  the  curse  !  She  knew  that  God  worked  by  general 
laws,  but  yet  she  felt  sure  that  he  had,  at  particular  times, 
intervened  directly  for  his  suffering  creatures.  She  believed 
that  Omniscient  Power  had  snatched  the  sufferer  from  the 
dread  fate  which  his  enemy  might  have  planned  for  him, 
and  she  could  not  help  reaching  forth  with  prayer  to  the 
same  Power. 

The  breakfast  was  eaten,  and  the  mother  and  child  went 
to  the  window  to  gaze  out.  There  were  two  windows,  and 
they  both  overlooked  a  narrow  passage,  down  into  which, 
however,  they  could  not  see.  Over  against  these  windows, 
and  distant  only  some  five  feet,  was  a  dark,  dirty  black 
wall,  so  that  the  view  was  entirely  cut  off,  save,  indeed, 
one  little  place,  where  the  corner  of  the  wall  could  be  seen, 
leaving  about  an  inch  of  width  between  that  and  the  window- 
casing,  through  which  they  could  look  upon  the  back  of 
another  old  house,  some  forty  feet  distant.  Such  was  the 
view  from  their  windows. 

The  forenoon  passed  away,  and  when  noon  came  Miss 
Mugget  made  her  appearance  with  another  tray,  and  another 
set  of  dishes.  She  brought  this  time  a  very  respectable 
dinner,  but  she  spoke  not  a  word.  The  exhilarating  effects 
of  the  gin,  or  rum,  had  passed  off,  and  she  seemed  to  feel 
rather  sober.  Constance  had  nothing  to  say,  so  the  woman 
came  and  went  in  silence,  taking  away  the  tray  she  had 
brought  in  the  morning,  and  leaving  the  last  one. 

The  dinner  had  been  eaten,  and  Mrs.  Milmer  had  lain 
down  upon  the  old  lounge,  with  her  child  upon  her  bosom, 
when  she  heard  a  footfall  upon  the  stairway  which  startled 
her.  It  was  a  heavy,  clumping  step,  such  as  she  had  heard 
before.  She  started  to  a  sitting  posture  and  listened.  The 
step  came  towards  the  door. 

"  Mamma,"  whispered  Lizzie,  trembling  like  an  aspen, 
"  that  is  he  !  Oh,  there  don't  anybody  else  walk  like  that !  " 

Before  the  mother  could  make  any  reply  the  door  was 
opened,  and  Duffy  Glicker  entered.  He  was  better  dressed 
than  the  poor  widow  had  ever  before  seen  him,  but  he  could 
not  hide  that  great,  clumsy  form,  nor  that  coarse,  ugly  face. 
He  bowed  with  mock  ceremony  as  he  came  in,  and  took  a 
seat  before  he  spoke.  After  he  had  seated  himself  he 


THE  PRISONERS.  157 

gazed  into  the  woman's  face  a  few  moments,  and  when  he 
spoke  he  betrayed  an  evident  desire  to  please  and  con- 
ciliate. 

"  Mrs.  Milmer,"  he  said,  in  as  soft  a  tone  as  he  could 
command,  "  I've  come  to  tell  ye  the  plans  I've  laid  down 
for  the  futur'.  Wouldn't  ye  like  to  hear  'em  ? " 

"  Go  on,  sir,"  she  answered,  with  a  struggle. 

"Well — I've  come  to  tell  ye  that  I've  made  all  the  plans 
for  us  to  be  married  ;  and  the  sooner  we  do  it  the  better." 

"  But,  sir,"  the  widow  said,  as  firmly  and  calmly  as  she 
could,  "  you  know  that  I  can  not  become  your  wife." 

"  And  why  not,  pray  ? "  uttered  the  visitor,  with  a  slight 
show  of  impatience. 

"  Because  I  can  not.  My  husband  is  but  just  dead,  and  I 
shall  never  marry  again." 

"But  you  will  marry  with  me,  my  dear  woman.  You 
know  you  will." 

"  No,  no,  sir.     I  can  not."    . 

"But  I  say  you  can — and  you  must — and  you — you — 
shall !  I  can't  afford  to  lose  you  now." 

Constance  gazed  into  the  man's  face,  and  she  knew  that 
he  had  some  hopes  of  gain  from  a  marriage  with  her.  She 
knew  that  he  loved  her  not  ;  and  she  knew  too,  that  he 
would  never  have  taken  all  this  trouble  for  the  mere  pur- 
pose of  gaining  her  as  a  companion.  She  felt  sure  that  the 
paper  which  he  held  contained  information  of  some  fortu- 
nate circumstance  which  had  transpired  in  her  favor,  and 
that  the  villain  wished  to  marry  with  her  that  he  might  gain 
a  share  of  it.  So  she  resolved  to  try  him  on  this  tack. 

"  Duffy  Glicker,"  she  said  in  a  calm,  earnest,  persuasive 
tone,  "  listen  to  me.  I  know  you  have  some  cause  for 
wishing  to  make  me  your  wife  more  than  you  have  told  me. 
Now  I  promise  you  this  one  thing  ;  if  there  is  in  this  world 
any  property — any  money — any  goods  of  any  kind,  which 
by  right  belong  to  me,  and  which  can  by  means  come  to 
me,  they  shall  be  all  yours  if  you  will  let  me  go.  Give  me 
my  freedom — let  me  go  out  from  here,  and  promise  me 
that  you  will  never  trouble  me  again,  and  all  shall  be  yours. 
I  will  go  before  an  attorney  and  make  over  to  you  every- 
thing I  may  have  the  power  so  to  dispose  of.  Oh,  you 
can  ask  no  more  !  Only  think  :  then  you  will  gain  all  you 
wish  without  having  the  trouble  of  me  to  maintain," 


158  ORION,  THE  COLD  BEATER. 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  the  villain,  shaking  his 
head  dubiously.  "  You  are  the  pootiest  woman  I  know  of, 
and  I  think  I  should  kind  o'  like  ye  for  a  wife." 

"  But  yet  for  a  wife,  merely,  you  would  not  force  me  to 
wed  you.  You  would  not  want  a  wife  who  could  only  be 
miserable  in  the  union.  Would  you,  sir  ?  " 

"  We  won't  say  anything  about  that  just  now,"  the  fellow 
replied,  after  a  moment's  hesitation.  "All  is — you'll  be 
my  wife." 

"  And  will  you  not  take  the  offer  I  have  made  ?  All,  all 
that  you  can  expect  of  property  that  may  be  mine  I  will 
freely,  fully,  give  you." 

"  That  mayn't  be  so  easy,  my  dear.  Folks  might  ask 
questions  ;  and  you  mightn't  be  left  to  do  as  you  would 
wish." 

"  But  I  will  do  as  I  wish  !  "  the  woman  cried  earnestly, 
for  she  fancied  she  saw  something  in  the  man's  manner 
which  seemed  to  indicate  that  he  wavered  ;  or,  at  least, 
that  he  considered  some  upon  her  proposition.  "  No  one 
shall  prevent  me  from  doing  as  I  have  a  mind  to  do  ;  and 
I  will  have  a  mind  to  do  all  for  you  I  can." 

"  Pshaw  !  You  don't  know  what  you're  talkin'  'bout, 
woman.  I  tell  ye  'at  you  must  be  my  wife.  What  I  want, 
and — mark  ye — what  I  will  have,  can't  be  got  in  any  other 
way.  But — stop  a  minute,"  he  added  ;  and  having  bowed 
his  head  upon  his  hand,  he  resumed — 

"  P'r'aps,  arter  we've  been  married  awhile,  ye  may  git 
disvorsed.  Arter  I've  been  satisfied  with  my  share  of  the 
money  that  we  may  make  together,  then  I'll  give  ye  up  if 
ye  say  so.  Now  there  ain't  no  use  of  your  sayin'  one  word 
more ;  and  to  prove  it,  I'll  jest  inform  ye  that  this  money 
you  can't  git  alone,  nor  can  I,  but  both  together  we  can 
fetch  it.  So  we'll  be  married  as  soon  as  possible,  and  have 
the  whole  thing  over." 

At  this  point  Constance  started  to  her  feet,  and  with  her 
hands  clasped  she  uttered — 

"  Duffy  Glicker,  I  will  not  be  your  wife  !  No  power  on 
earth  shall  force  me  to  it !  You  have  my  answer  now." 

For  a  single  moment  the  villain  felt  like  being  angry  ; 
but  there  was  something  in  the  spirit  of  the  woman  he 
liked,  and  as  he  felt  confident  of  his  absolute  power  over 
her,  he  allowed  himself  to  feel  only  a  sort  of  forbearing 


THE  PRISONERS.  159 

determination.  That  is — he  meant  to  let  her  exercise  her 
tongue  until  the  time  for  action  came,  though  he  held  more 
ugliness  in  reserve  than  she  would  have  wished  to  provoke 
to  life. 

"  If  it  does  you  good."  he  said,  "to  be  so  pert  with  yer 
tongue,  why — I  s'pose  you'd  better  use  it ;  but  I  tell  ye  the 
thing  is  fixed.  May  be  you've  seed  a  locomotive,  on  a  rail- 
track,  at  full  blis'm — goin'  it  like  mad.  May  be  you've 
seed  a  streak  of  lightnin'  a-scootin'  of  it  through  the  sky  ; 
and  may  be  you've  seed  a  Wall-street  broker  collectin' 
rents.  Well — now,  you  might  jest  as  well  try  to  stop  them 
three  things  in  their  course  as  to  try  to  prevent  this  plan  of 
mine  ! " 

Mr.  Glicker  leaned  back  in  his  chair  with  an  important 
look  as  he  finished  this  rhetorical  flourish,  and  under  the 
deep  sense  of  the  effect  he  was  sure  it  must  have  produced 
he  could  not  help  drawing  out  a  very  dubious  looking 
handkerchief,  with  which  he  wiped  his  large  red  nose. 
Having  restored  his  handkerchief  to  his  pocket  he  arose  to 
his  feet  and  took  his  hat,  and  after  he  had  put  it  on  his 
head  he  said  : 

"  My  dear,  have  you  any  choice  as  to  the  day  of  our 
wedding  ? " 

Constance  Milmer  turned  a  shade  paler  as  she  heard  this, 
for  it  really  presented  more  of  firm  purpose  than  all  the 
rest  the  fellow  had  said. 

"  You  must  work  as  you  will,"  she  replied.  '<  I  care  not 
when  you  fix  the  time,  for  you  cannot  make  me  your  wife 
against  my  will." 

The  fellow  resumed,  as  though  the  widow  had  not  spoken, 
"  I'd  been  thinkin'  about  havin'  it  come  off  to-morrer,  but 
I  guess  I'll  have  to  wait  till  the  day  arter.  I  think  then 
we'll  make  a  match  of  it.  So  be  ready,  and  try  to  get  yer 
mind  easy  on  the  matter.  Biddy  '11  take  good  care  of  ye. 
Mind — ye  shan't  want.  Our  little  Lizzie  'ill  be  jest  like  a 
chick  of  my  own.  Good-bye,  my  dear.  Look  out  for  me, 
now  ;  for  when  I  come  again  somethin'  '11  be  done  !  " 

With  these  words  Duffy  Glicker  turned  from  the  room, 
and  ere  long  the  sound  of  his  heavy  step  had  died  away  in 
the  distance.  Constance  Milmer  listened  until  she  could 
hear  it  no  more,  and  then  she  turned  to  her  child  and 
wound  her  arms  about  the  slight  form, 


160  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BRA  TER. 

"Weep  not,  Lizzie,"  she  said,  in  a  low,  hushed  tone. 
"  That  man  shall  not  harm  us  if  I  can  help  it.  He  shall 
not  be  your  papa.  Wait  until  the  hour  comes,  and  then 
perhaps  some  help  may  be  found.  I  will  not  be  his  wife, — 
I  will  not  !  Oh,  God  help  me  ! " 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A    BITTER  DISAPPOINTMENT. 

HAVING  taken  the  resolution  to  be  firm  and  hopeful, 
and  to  put  off  the  terrible  fear  till  there  was  no 
more  room  for  escape,  Constance  became  more  calm 
and  resigned,  and  her  face  from  that  time  wore  a  brighter 
look. 

It  may  seem  strange  that  this  should  have  resulted  from 
such  a  visit,  but  so  it  was.  The  visit  of  Glicker,  and 
his  wicked,  selfish  plans,  had  inspired  the  poor  woman  with 
a  deep  feeling  of  indignant  rebellion,  and  this  had  settled 
down  into  a  spirit  of  firm  resistance  such  as  bore  hope  in 
its  very  determination.  She  had  resolved  that  she  would 
would  not  be  the  wretch's  wife,  even  though  life  itself 
were  asked  in  exchange  for  freedom  from  his  power. 
Death  would  be  far  preferable  to  such  a  life,  and  she  felt 
sure  she  could  welcome  the  stroke  if  it  only  freed  her  from 
the  terrible  bonds. 

Nearly  an  hour  had  passed  since  Glicker  left,  and  during 
that  time  the  mother  and  child  had  been  together  upon  the 
lounge.  Suddenly  Lizzie  started  up,  and  her  face  wore  a 
half-frightened  look. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  quickly  uttered  Constance,  supposing  the 
child  had  heard  something. 

"  He  didn't  lock  the  door  !  " 

The  widow  started  to  her  feet  and  gazed  about  her  as 
though  she  feared  there  might  be  some  one  present  who 
could  read  her  very  thoughts.  She  went  to  the  door  and — • 
opened  it !  For  a  few  moments  she  was  obliged  to  press 
her  hand  upon  her  bosom  to  quell  the  tumultuous  beating 
of  her  heart.  By  and  by  she  ventured  to  look  out.  She 
saw  a  narrow  hall,  with  three  other  doors,  apparently 


A    BITTER  DISAPPOINTMENT.  161 

opening  into  other  rooms,  while  in  the  centre,  and  protected 
by  balusters  on  both  sides,  was  the  stairway.  She  listened, 
but  she  heard  no  sound  below. 

"  Oh — if  it  were  dark  !  "  she  murmured. 

"  You  won't  wait  till  dark,"  said  Lizzie. 

"  No — for  that  woman  will  come  before  that. — Here, — 
give  me  your  hand — " 

"  But  your  bonnet,  mamma." 

"  Ah — yes." 

She  had  forgotten  that  in  her  absorbing  anxiety.  But 
now  that  her  mind  had  thus  been  called  to  it  she  went 
back  and  got  her  hood  and  light  shawl,  and  then  put 
on  her  child's  hat.  After  this  she  took  the  little  one's  hand 
and  went  again  to  the  door.  She  listened  once  more,  and, 
hearing  nothing,  glided  out  into  the  hall.  At  first  she  felt 
an  inclination  to  stop  and  listen  at  every  step,  but  she  knew 
even  half  a  minute  of  time  might  be  everything  to  her,  and 
she  resolved  to  push  boldly  on,  only  taking  care  to  walk  as 
noiselessly  as  possible.  She  placed  her  foot  upon  the 
stairs,  and  began  to  descend.  Oh,  horrors  !  how  the 
merciless  boards  creaked  !  More  lightly  and  carefully  the 
fugitive  trod,  but  this  seemed  only  to  aggravate  the  diffi- 
culty. The  more  care  she  used  the  more  loudly  the  tell- 
tale things  cracked  and  screamed. 

Yet  this  flight  was  passed  without  bringing  forth  any 
opposition,  and  the  widow  found  herself  in  a  hall  somewhat 
larger  than  the  first,  from  which  only  two  doors  opened. 
But  she  stopped  not  here.  Around  she  went,  and  down 
the  next  flight  she  started.  But  the  creaking  was  awful  ! 
To  Constance  it  seemed  like  a  demon  howling  the  alarm  ! 
At  every  step  the  dry,  light  boards  snapped  and  snarled 
like  a  maddened  cur  !  The  sweat  stood  upon  the  poor 
woman's  brow  in  great  drops,  for  she  knew  that  a  person 
in  any  of  the  rooms  adjoining  the  hall  could  not  help  hear- 
ing the  noise.  Yet  she  reached  the  floor  of  the  hall.  Be- 
fore her  was  the  outer  door,  and  the  key  was  in  the  lock. 
She  moved  quickly  towards  it — her  hand  was  upon  the 
knob — and  she  was  upon  the  point  of  turning  back  the 
bolt,  when  she  heard  a  quick,  heavy  step  upon  the  stoop 
outside,  and  before  she  even  had  time  to  think  of  hiding 
the  door  was  opened,  and — she  stood  in  the  presence  of  Duffy 
Qlicker  /  He  started  back  for  a.n  instant,  but  a  thankful 


1 62  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

expression  came  to  his  face,  and  in  a  tone  far  from  being 
angry  or  revengeful  he  said  : 

"By  the  big  spoon,  but  I  am  just  in  time,  ain't  I  ?  I 
don't  blame  ye,  my  dear — not  a  bit.  I  was  the  fool.  I 
ought  to  'ave  lost  ye  for  leavin'  that  door  unlocked.  Why 
— I  got  clear  'way  up  into  Broadway  afore  I  thought  of  ye. 
I  went  into  a  bar-room  with  a  friend  to  drink,  an'  says  he, 
1  Here's  hopin'  that  no  locks  may  be  ever  turned  upon  us 
but  the  curlin'  locks  of  a  pretty  woman's  head.'  Them 
words  wa'n't  half  out  of  his  mouth  afore  I  remembered  that 
I'd  forgot  the  lock  what  held  them  curlin'  locks  for  me. 
You'd  better  believe  I  run.  I  knowed  that  Biddy  was  out, 
and  that  ye  might  git  away  if  ye  found  out  my  mistake. 
But  it's  all  right  now.  So  about  face,  and  march  up-stairs 
again.  Come — I  hain't  got  no  time  to  spare.  Up  ye  go  !  " 

Poor  Constance  !  She  knew  that  resistance  would  be 
useless,  and  without  a  word  she  turned  and  commenced  to 
re-ascend  the  stairs.  It  was  a  sad  moment  for  her,  but  she 
displayed  none  of  the  deep  feelings  which  dwelt  within. 
When  she  reached  her  chamber  with  her  child  still  by  the 
hand,  she  entered  at  once,  while  Glicker  stopped  at  the 
door. 

"  There,"  he  said,  "  as  I  told  ye  down  below,  I  don't 
blame  ye,  but  be  very  sure  ye  won't  find  this  chance  again. 
Good-by." 

Thus  speaking  he  closed  the  door,  this  time  locking  it 
securely,  as  Constance  could  tell  by  the  repeated  trials  he 
made  with  the  knob  to  assure  himself  that  all  was  fast,  and 
again  he  went  away.  When  his  step  could  be  no  longer 
heard  the  poor  woman  felt  like  crying — it  was  a  severe 
blow — the  crushing  of  such  high  hopes — but  she  kept  her 
resolution.  With  a  mighty  effort  she  kept  back  the  tears, 
and  taking  her  child  to  her  side  she  said  : 

"  We  won't  despair,  Lizzie.  We  came  very  near  getting 
away  that  time — the  next  we  may  be  more  fortunate." 

The  little  one  saw  that  her  mother  was  calm,  and  she 
quickly  checked  her  own  tears,  and  ere  long  they  seemed 
as  resigned  as  before  their  luckless  adventure. 

The  afternoon  passed  away,  and  evening  came,  but 
Biddy  came  not  as  had  been  expected.  It  grew  dark — 
very  dark — and  the  prisoners  had  no  light.  They  won- 
dered why  the  attendant  did  not  come.  It  was  nearly  eight 


A   BITTER  DISAPPOINTMENT.  163 

o'clock,  for  the  night  had  fairly  set  in,  when  they  at  length 
heard  a  step  upon  the  stairs. 

"  It  is  not  her  step,"  whispered  Lizzie. 

"  Hark  !  "  uttered  the  mother.     "  It  is  a  curious  step." 

And  so  it  was  ;  but  ere  long  the  mystery  was  cleared  up. 
By  and  by  the  step  reached  the  door,  and  after  a  long  trial, 
during  which  a  good  deal  of  noise  was  made,  and  some  ex- 
pletives were  used  which  were  far  from  being  proper  to 
transcribe,  the  key  was  turned  in  the  lock — the  door  was 
opened,  and  Biddy  Mugget  with  the  tea-tray  in  her  hands 
staggered  into  the  apartment. 

"  Bad  luck  to  the  desateful  stairs  !  "  she  uttered,  as  she 
set  the  tea-things  down,  "  I  niver  seed  the  likes  (hie)  ov  'em 
afore.  Wud  ye's  believe  it,  they's  crookeder'n  a  thrack  me 
brother  Mick  used  to  make  home  from  Donnybrook. 
Och  !  be  me  sowl,  but  isn't  it  quare  inthirely  now  ?  Miss 
— (hie)  Miss — What  wud  I  call  y's?" 

"  My  name  is  Constance  Milmer,"  returned  the  widow, 
who  saw  at  once  that  Biddy's  intoxication  took  a  jovial 
turn. 

"  It's  an  illigant  name,  an'  so  it  is,  inthirely,  me  darlint. 
An1  ye're  a  perty  woman,  an*  so  ye  are.  But  ye's  got  the 
'vantage  (hie)  o'  me." 

"  Oh,  no,"  returned  Constance,  in  a  tremulous  tone.  She 
trembled,  for  she  had  just  embraced  a  new  hope.  She  be- 
lieved the  woman  would  be  communicative,  and  she  deter- 
mined to  question  her. 

"  You  have  plenty  of  company  in  the  house,  I  suppose  ? " 
she  said. 

"  Och  !  D'ye  think  so  ?  It's  there  ye're  mistaken,  avick. 
Not  a  (hie)  company,  me  leddy.  I'm  alone — all  sowl 
alone." 

"  But  surely  you  do  not  occupy  this  whole  house  ?" 

"  No — not  at  all  at  all — not  the  whole  house,  but  (hie) 
the  whole  of  this  part  ov  it.  In  the  next  part  there's  some- 
body else  lives  ;  but  they're  no  company  for  Biddy  Mug- 
get,  an'  so  (hie)  they  ain't." 

"  But  do  you  mean  to  say,  Biddy,  that  you  have  to  stay 
here  all  alone  through  the  whole  night  ?  " 

"  Niver  a  bit  ov  it.  Doesn't  Teddy  an'  little  Phil  (hie) 
McCarthy  come  round  at  midnight,  bad  luck  to  their  dirthy 
sowls.  They's  on  the  railroad  tendin'  the  thrack,  where  the 


1 64  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

cars  run  off  every  which  way.  They  come  home  wid  their 
dirthy  throats  dry  as  a  widdy's  eyes  when  she's  all  alone, 
an'  (hie)  they  stale  all  my  gin — the  spalpeens  !  " 

Constance  saw  that  Miss  Mugget  was  getting  to  be  very 
drunk.  In  her  dismal  experience  at  her  last  home  she  had 
seen  so  much  of  drunkenness  that  she  knew  all  its  phases. 
She  saw  that  Biddy  must  have  been  drinking  during  the 
afternoon,  and  that  just  before  coming  up  with  the  tray  she 
had  taken  a  deep  potion  of  her  favorite  beverage.  This 
the  widow  knew,  and  she  furthermore  knew  that  the  last 
dram  was  just  beginning  to  do  the  finishing  work.  The 
woman  had  already  begun  to  reel  to  and  fro  in  her  chair, 
and  her  gaze  was  vacant  and  idiotic.  She  seemed  endeav- 
oring to  keep  her  eye  upon  her  charge,  but  the  effort  was  a 
fruitless  one.  Everything  was  floating  and  whirling  before 
her,  and  finally  all  her  efforts  were  needed  to  keep  herself 
steady  in  what  she  supposed  to  be  her  revolving  chair. 

"  Say,  Biss  Codstace — what's  yer  dabe  ?  "  she  thickly 
uttered,  at  the  same  time  trying  to  steady  her  body  by 
clutching  at  the  vacant  air  by  her  side,  and  looking  in  vain 
for  the  person  she  addressed,  "  didd't  ye  kdowt  'at  'eb  (hie) 
biserable— a— (ic)  I  bead  Bick  Teddy  Phil  McCarthy— bad 
luck  to  'ub — stole  every  dhrapof  by  gid.  They  didd't  lave 
me  a  dhrap  ! — Say — Biss  Codstace — you — (hie) — dod't 
know — " 

At  this  point  Miss  Mugget  gave  an  extraordinary  lurch, 
but  as  she  found  herself  falling  she  started  to  her  feet,  and 
would  have  stumbled  blindly  upon  Constance  had  not  the 
latter  moved  quickly  on  one  side.  The  bed  was  directly  in 
a  line  with  the  woman's  headlong  course,  and  she  fell  upon 
it,  her  body  reaching  so  far  forward  that  she  did  not  roll 
off.  With  considerable  presence  of  mind,  Mrs.  Milmer  at 
once  started  to  the  bedside,  and  with  much  effort  suc- 
ceeded in  hoisting  the  woman  on  so  that  she  lay  quite  com- 
fortable.  Biddy  did  not  resist,  though  she  was  not  yet 
quite  wholly  gone.  Her  mind  still  held  some  vague  ideas 
of  duty,  for  no  sooner  had  she  been  thus  nicely  disposed  of 
than  she  jumbled  out : 

"  Look  here,  you  Biss  Codstadce  BcCarthy — (hie)  dod't 
you  go  off.  There's  (hie)  a  key  id  the  door.  Wodt  jes' 
(hie)  lock  it  ? — that's  a  dear.  Jes'  take  out  the  key  whed 
you've  locked  it.  Och,  ye  dirthy  spalpeens,  ye.  Ye  rud 


A  BITTER  DISAPPOINTMENT.  10$ 

off  wid  all  by  gid.  Git  out. — Say — Teddy — Teddy-^go 
lock  'at  door — (hie)  ad  dod't  let  'eb  cobe  out.  Biss  Cod- 
stadce  (hie)  is  id  there.  If  ye's  go'd  to — a — " 

Thus  ended  Miss  Mugget's  charge.  There  was  a  deeply- 
drawn  grunting  sound,  very  like  the  snore  of  a  grunting 
hog — and  then  she  commenced  to  sleep  in  right  good 
earnest.  Constance  Milmer  was  now  pale  and  trembling. 
The  sudden  coming  of  this  new  hope  operated  powerfully 
upon  her,  and  it  was  some  moments  ere  she  could  com- 
mand force  enough  to  act. 

But  the  imprisoned  woman  did  not  long  remain  inactive, 
She  believed  there  was  no  one  in  that  part  of  the  house, 
save  those  in  her  own  room,  and  she  saw  not  why  escape 
should  be  cut  off.  At  all  events,  she  was  quickly  resolved 
upon  the  course  she  would  pursue. 

"  Come,  Lizzie,"  she  whispered  to  her  child,  "  we  may 
get  away  this  time.  Don't  make  any  more  noise  than  you 
can  help." 

"  We  won't  stop  to  eat  any  supper,  then?"  said  the  little 
one,  with  a  longing  look  at  the  food. 

"  No — not  here.  But  you  may  put  some  of  those  biscuit 
into  your  little  pocket." 

"  And  won't  you  take  some,  too  ? " 

Constance  had  not  thought  of  this,  but  the  suggestion 
was  a  good  one,  and  she  at  once  followed  out  its  meaning. 
She  took  all  the  food  which  Biddy  had  brought  up,  and 
having  secured  it  about  her  she  proceeded  once  more  to 
put  on  her  hood  and  shawl.  Having  done  this  she  care- 
fully opened  her  door  and  looked  out.  She  went  to  the 
balusters  and  looked  down  into  the  lower  hall, — or,  rather 
into  the  utter  darkness  in  which  the  lower  hall  was  envel- 
oped. She  feared  to  attempt  the  descent  in  such  gloom, 
and  she  finally  concluded  to  take  the  lighted  candle  which 
Biddy  had  succeeded  in  bringing  up  on  the  tray. 

The  widow's  strongest  hope  of  success  lay  in  the  belief 
that  there  was  no  one  in  the  lower  part  of  that  tenement, 
and  if  such  was  the  case,  then  there  could  be  no  danger  in 
taking  the  light.  So  she  took  it.  She  led  Lizzie  into  the 
hall,  and  having  carefully  closed  the  door  behind  her  she 
commenced  to  descend  the  stairs.  She  quickly  found  that 
the  more  carefully  she  trod  the  more  noise  the  creaking 
stairs  made,  so  she  moved  on  more  boldly,  and  was  soon 


1 66  ORION,  THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

in  the  lower  hall.  The  door  was  not  locked  upon  the  in- 
side, the  only  fastening  being  the  stout  night  bolt  which 
could  not  be  moved  from  without  save  by  a  proper  key. 
Here  Constance  set  the  candle  down  in  one  corner,  and 
having  assured  herself  that  the  door  could  be  easily  opened 
she  extinguished  the  light,  then  turned  the  knob,  and  the 
way  to  the  court  was  open  before  her. 

She  was  somewhat  surprised  to  find  it  very  light  out  of 
doors.  The  moon  was  some  days  past  its  first  quarter,  and 
well  up  in  the  heavens,  shedding  upon  the  benighted  earth 
a  grateful,  genial  effulgence.  The  chamber  from  which 
Mrs.  Milmer  had  fled  was  hidden  away  from  all  chance  of 
moonlight,  and  into  the  halls  no  windows  opened  save  a 
few  lights  which  were  thickly  curtained.  So  she  came  out 
now  into  a  well  illumined  court  instead  of  a  dark  one  as 
she  had  supposed.  As  she  stepped  from  the  threshold  she 
found  herself  upon  a  narrow  platform,  guarded  on  two 
sides  by  balusters,  and  from  which  a  short  flight  of  wooden 
steps  led  to  the  ground. 

Taking  her  child  by  the  hand  the  widow  descended  into 
the  narrow  passage-way,  and  a  few  steps  brought  her  to 
the  small  court  from  which  a  low  archway  led  to  the  street. 
She  had  discovered  this  arch,  and  had  started  to  move 
towards  it,  when  she  saw  a  man  coming  in  from  the  street, 
and  in  a  moment  more  she  detected  others  behind  him. 
Her  first  impulse  was  to  seek  some  place  of  concealment, 
but  the  only  place  she  could  find  was  the  narrow  passage 
leading  to  the  door  she  had  just  left.  By  this  time  she 
could  see  that  the  coming  man  was  none  other  than  Duffy 
Glicker  !  With  a  sinking  heart  she  sprang  back  to  the 
extreme  corner  of  the  court.  Close  by  there  was  a  door 
which  opened  into  a  strange  house — a  house  separate  from 
the  one  she  had  left.  When  she  reached  it  she  saw  that 
the  door  was  ajar,  and  she  was  upon  the  point  of  springing 
into  the  hall  when  a  heavy  hand  was  laid  upon  her  arm, 
and  on  turning  round  she  beheld  the  dark  face  of  her  tyrant 
persecutor  ! 

"  Well,  my  beauty  !  "  uttered  Glicker,  in  breathless  aston- 
ishment. "  I'd  like  to  know  what  this  means  ?  So  you  was 
off  again,  eh  ?  " 

But  the  poor  woman  could  not  speak.  Her  heart  had 
sunk  back  into  its  grave  of  utter  darkness,  and  her  frame 


IN  SEARCH  OF  A    SECRET.  167 

shook  like  the  storm-handled  branches  of  the  forest  tree. 

"  I  know'd  'twas  you  when  I  fust  seed  ye.  But  say — 
how'd  ye  git  out  ? " 

Still  the  woman  made  no  answer. 

"  By  the  great  spoon,  but  I'm  jest  in  time,  ain't  I  ?  Why, 
my  dear,  if  I'd  lost  ye  I  should  have  gone  right  out  mad. 
But  I  can't  lose  ye — it's  impossible.  Don't  ye  see  it  isn't 
to  be  that  you  should  run  away  from  me  ?  But  say — how'n 
thunder  'd  ye  git  out  ? — Why  don't  ye  answer  me  ?  " 

"  You'll  see  when  you  go  up-stairs,"  groaned  Constance, 
afraid  to  keep  silent  longer. 

"  Ah — I  know,"  uttered  Glicker,  with  an  oath,  and  apply- 
ing another  one  to  the  person  of  whom  he  spoke  ;  "  that 
woman's  been  an*  got  drunk  agin.  She  swore  she  wouldn't 
do  it,  she  did.  Say — ain't  Biddy  Mugget  drunk  ?  " 

"  Yes  sir — she  is,"  faintly  responded  the  widow. 

"  I  knew  it.  But  come,  my  dear.  Here's  the  priest 
come  to  make  us  man  and  wife.  We'll  soon  have  our  job 
finished  !  " 

"  The  priest  /"  gasped  Constance,  starting  back  towards 
the  half-open  door. 

"  Yes,  darlin' — the  priest.  So  come  along.  I've  got  all 
the  necessary  dockiments,  and  we'll  be  man  and  wife  in  a 
jiffy." 

As  Glicker  thus  spoke  he  placed  his  hand  upon  Con- 
stance's arm.  She  had  seen  one  of  the  men  who  followed 
the  villain,  and  he  did  wear  the  holy  garb.  In  an  instant 
she  summoned  all  her  strength,  and,  with  one  long,  loud, 
wild  cry  for  help,  she  broke  from  the  ruffian's  grasp  and 
darted  into  the  strange  house.  A  fearful  oath  burst  from 
the  scoundrel's  lips,  and  without  a  moment's  hesitation  he 
dashed  in  after  her  ! 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

IN    SEARCH    OF    A    SECRET. 


ONE  afternoon,  at    two  o'clock,    Thomas  Hartley,   the 
coachman,  entered  Mr.  Tiverton's  counting-house,  and 
shortly  afterwards  he  was  joined  by  his  master. 
"  You  are  on  the  mark,  Thomas,"  the  merchant  said,  as 
he  drew  on  his  gloves, 


1 68  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

"  You  said  at  two  o'clock,  sir  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  I'm  glad  to  see  you  so  punctual.  And  now 
you  are  sure  you  can  take  me  to  the  place  where  you  saw  the 
old  woman  enter  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  can,  sir." 

"  Then  come  on.  I  am  all  ready.  You  may  walk  on  as 
fast  as  you  please,  and  be  sure  I  will  keep  up  with  you." 

Having  bowed  in  token  of  obedience,  the  coachman  went 
out  from  the  counting-house,  and  turned  towards  Broad- 
way. He  crossed  this  great  thoroughfare  to  the  Park,  then 
over  into  Chatham  street,  keeping  on  to  East  Broadway, 
down  here  to  Clinton  street,  into  which  he  turned — thence 
keeping  on  to  Avenue  B — over  into  Third  Street,  where  he 
stopped  and  turned.  Having  seen  that  his  master  was 
close  behind  him,  he  crossed  over  to  the  opposite  side  of 
the  street,  and  then  turned  down  towards  Avenue  C.  Half 
way  between  the  two  avenues  he  stopped,  and  turned  into 
a  narrow,  arched  passage,  that  led  to  some  dwellings  on 
the  rear  lots.  In  this  passage  he  stopped  for  the  merchant 
to  come  up. 

"  Is  this  the  place  ? "  asked  the  latter,  as  he  stopped  by 
the  side  of  his  coachman. 

"  Yes,  sir.  This  is  where  I  saw  Sarah  bring  the  old 
woman  in,  and  they  went  to  that  door  right  straight  ahead 
there." 

"  You  may  stand  here,  Thomas,  and  I  will  go  up  and  ask 
for  the  woman.  Don't  leave  until  I  come  back." 

"  No,  sir.     I'll  be  on  hand  if  anything  happens." 

"  Oh,  there's  no  fear  of  that,"  returned  the  merchant, 
with  a  smile.  And  then  he  moved  on  towards  the  door 
which  his  man  had  pointed  out.  The  small  court  was  a 
dirty  one,  and  the  appearance  of  things  in  general  seemed 
to  indicate  that  no  very  respectable  class  of  people  were  in 
the  habit  of  frequenting  the  place.  In  fact,  the  whole  dis- 
trict was  infected.  All  up  and  down  the  street  from  which 
he  had  just  turned,  the  gutters  were  loaded  with  dirt  and 
filth,  the  sidewalks  crusted  with  mud  and  offal,  the  door- 
ways reeking  with  slops  and  grease,  while  the  people  who 
lounged  about  were  in  perfect  harmony  with  the  state  of 
things  which  surrounded  them.  However,  Mr.  Tiverton 
felt  no  hesitation,  for  he  knew  that  no  one  would  be  likely 
to  trouble  him  in  broad  daylight,  even  supposing  they 


IN  SEARCH  OF  A    SECRET.  169 

might  do  such  a  thing  at  night  ;  so  he  kept  on  to  the  door. 
There  was  no  bell-pull  in  sight,  and  he  rapped  with  the 
head  of  his  cane.  He  was  obliged  to  rap  a  second  time 
ere  any  one  came  to  answer  him,  and  shortly  after  that  a 
middle-aged  woman,  very  respectably  dressed,  and  looking 
honest  and  worthy,  came  to  the  door.  Mr.  Tiverton  asked 
her  if  there  was  an  old  lady  there  named  Rhoda  Church. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  female.  "  You  are  Mr.  Tiverton, 
aren't  you  ?  " 

"  That  is  my  name,"  answered  the  merchant,  somewhat 
surprised  at  her  knowledge. 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  I  thought  so.  My  sister  lives  with  your  lady 
— Sarah  Johnson.  I  suppose  you  know  her.  Won't  you 
walk  in,  sir  ?  " 

"  But  you  have  not  told  me  if  the  old  woman  was  in." 

"  Oh — ah — I  forgot,"  returned  the  sister  of  my  lady's 
maid,  with  a  smile.  "  She  isn't  in  now,  sir,  but  she  will  be 
in  before  dark.  She's  gone  out  to  see  if  she  can't  hunt  up 
some  friends  whom  she  is  anxious  to  find." 

"  And  you  think  she  will  be  in  by  dark  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  she'll  be  in  by  that  time,  though  she  mayn't 
be  in  much  before.  When  she  went  out  she  said  she'd  cer- 
tainly be  in  by  daylight-down." 

The  merchant  pondered  a  few  moments,  and  then  re- 
marked that  he  should  probably  call  in  the  evening.  And 
having  thanked  the  hostess  for  her  kindness  he  started  to 
turn  away.  He  had  only  taken  a  few  steps,  however,  when 
she  called  him  back. 

"  You  said  you  was  coming  this  evening,  sir  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  returned,  wondering  what  she  wanted. 

"  Well  ;  I  only  wanted  to  tell  you  to  be  careful.  You 
might  come  here  a  hundred  nights  running  and  never  be 
troubled,  and  then,  again,  ye  might  come  only  one  night 
and  get  into  difficulty.  There's  some  hard  cases  live  in 
this  court,  men  and  women  both,  and  boys,  too,  for  that 
matter.  They  have  been  known  to  knock  down  a  man  and 
rob  him  at  night." 

"  Thank  you.  If  I  come  I  will  be  careful."  And  thus 
speaking  the  merchant  turned  away  again. 

When  he  reached  the  passage  he  said  to  his  man  : 

"  Thomas,  what  have  you  got  to  do  this  evening  ? " 

"  My  lady  and  Miss  Isabella  go  to  the  Opera." 


170  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

"  Then,  I  suppose,  you  must  go  with  them  ?  " 

"  Why,  sir,  I  wouldn't  want  to  trust  the  horses  with  any- 
body else  at  night." 

"  No  ;  you  are  right.  That's  all.  I  only  wanted  to  know. 
We'll  go  back  now." 

When  they  reached  Broadway  Thomas  took  one  of  the 
stages  for  home,  while  Mr.  Tiverton  returned  to  his 
counting-house.  Having  opened  a  package  of  private  let- 
ters, which  had  been  left  during  his  absence,  and  put  away 
such  as  needed  no  answer,  and  marked  such  directions 
upon  the  margins  of  the  others  as  were  necessary  for  his 
clerks,  he  sat  down,  and  pondered  upon  the  course  he 
should  pursue  for  the  evening.  He  was  not  a  coward  by 
any  means — far  from  it ;  but  his  soul  shrank  from  contact 
with  low  villains,  and  especially  contact  of  violence.  Yet 
he  would  not  have  been  deterred  an  instant  from  the  per- 
formance of  duty,  even  by  this  fear.  But  if  he  had  got  to 
expose  himself  to  this  danger — to  danger  of  being  knocked 
down  and  robbed — he  chose  to  have  some  one  with  him  ; 
for  he  knew,  as  all  who  have  observed  know,  that  two  men 
are  not  so  liable  to  be  attacked,  even  by  a  gang  of  villains, 
as  is  one. 

•  The  merchant  had  not  pondered  long  before  his  thoughts 
fell  upon  Orion  Lindell.  He  had  no  clerks  whom  he 
thought  worth  trusting  in  such  an  emergency  as  he  wished 
to  be  prepared  for,  and  as  for  his  stout  porters  he  cared 
not  to  bring  them  into  his  business.  At  first  he  feared  it 
might  be  trespassing  upon  a  willing  heart  and  a  good  soul, 
to  apply  to  the  young  gold-beater,  for  well  he  knew  that  the 
youth  would  not  refuse  him  ;  but  after  a  while  he  resolved 
to  go  and  see  him.  He  looked  at  his  watch,  and  it  was 
half-past  three.  He  took  the  marked  letters,  and  left  them 
upon  the  desk  of  his  head  book-keeper,  and  then  went  out. 

The  walk  to  the  gold-beater's  place  was  not  long  ;  and 
when  Mr.  Tiverton  reached  it  he  found  Orion  engaged  in 
weighing  out  gold-plate,  and  preparing  it  for  the  rollers. 
The  youth  was  slightly  startled  upon  seeing  the  merchant, 
but  the  emotion  was  a  pleasurable  one. 

"  My  dear  Orion,"  said  Mr.  Tiverton,  after  the  first  salu- 
tation had  been  passed,  "  I  have  come  upon  rather  a  curi- 
ous business.  Have  you  any  particular  engagement  for 
this  evening  ?  " 


IN  SEARCH  OF  A    SECRET.  I?  I 

"  No,  sir,"  the  youth  replied. 

"  Well  ;  I  will  explain  my  business  at  once.  In  one  of 
the  narrow,  dirty  courts  that  lead  out  from  the  lower  end 
of  Third  street  is  an  old  woman  whom  I  wish  very  much 
to  see.  I  have  been  there  this  afternoon,  and  she  had  gone 
out,  and  would  not  return  till  evening.  As  I  was  coming 
away,  the  woman  with  whom  I  had  spoken  informed  me 
that  if  I  came  after  dark  I  had  better  be  careful,  because 
there  were  some  hard  cases  living  in  the  court.  She  said 
there  wasn't  much  danger,  but  that  I  had  better  be  careful, 
nevertheless.  Now,  my  coachman  has  an  engagement  for 
the  evening,  and  I  have  come  to  see  if  you  will  accompany 
me  to  the  place." 

"  I  will  go  with  pleasure,  sir,"  answered  Orion,  very 
quickly.  "  Just  name  the  hour,  and  I  will  be  at  your 
service." 

"  Then  meet  me  in  the  reading-room  of  the  Astor  at 
half-past  six.  We  will  get  some  supper  there,  and  then 
start  on  our  walk." 

The  youth  promised  to  be  on  hand  at  the  appointed  time, 
and  then  the  merchant,  with  a  gratified  smile,  left  the  place. 

"  You  are  fortunate,"  said  Mr.  Garvey,  after  the  gentle- 
man had  gone. 

"  How  so  ? "  asked  Orion,  looking  up  at  his  employer. 

"Why,  to  have  the  confidence  and  friendship  of  such 
men  as  that." 

"I  think  he  does  feel  friendly  towards  me,"  returned  the 
young  man,  with  a  flush  of  pride. 

"  Of  course  he  does,"  added  Garvey.  "  I  watched  his 
face  while  he  was  conversing  with  you,  and  I  know  he  re- 
spects you  much.  People  may  talk  as  much  as  they  please 
about  honest  poverty,  but  still  there  is  an  honor  in  possess- 
ing the  confidence  and  esteem  of  honest  wealth.  Money 
has  its  power,  and  instead  of  trying  to  hide  the  fact,  or  in- 
discriminately denouncing  it,  we  had  better  try  to  turn  that 
power  into  a  proper  channel.  I  am  somewhat  acquainted 
with  Mr.  Tiverton's  family  arrangements." 

"  Ah  !  "  returned  Orion  ;  "  have  you  visited  him  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  I  have  a  sister  who  often  calls  there.  "  Oh," 
added  Garvey,  with  a  light  laugh,  "  I  am  very  respectably 
connected.  My  sister  is  the  wife  of  a  Fifth  Avenue  mer- 
chant. What  do  you  think  of  that  ?  " 


1 7 2  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

"  I  think  you  are  very  fortunate ;  for  through  her  you 
can  hear  all  the  topics  of  fashionable  life  without  the  tor- 
ture of  having  to  live  it." 

"  Right,  Lindell,  right.  By  the  powers  of  Mammon,  I 
find  my  sister  oftener  with  a  camphorated  napkin  about 
her  head  than  any  other  way.  But  she  tells  me  that  Mrs. 
Tiverton  is  not  the  woman  for  a  good  man's  wife  ;  and  also 
that  her  daughter  don't  take  much  after  her  father.  Say, 
Orion,  if  he  had  a  daughter  worth  the  trial,  there'd  be  some 
chance  for  you  to  draw  the  bonds  between  the  old  man  and 
yourself  a  little  tighter,  eh  ?  " 

"  Pooh,"  uttered  the  youth.  He  meant  to  laugh  when 
he  spoke,  but  the  thought  of  one  whom  the  merchant  loved 
as  a  daughter  came  to  his  mind,  and  the  laugh  ended  in  a 
tremulous  blush. 

Mr.  Garvey  said  something  about  Orion's  being  worthy 
of  any  maiden,  but  the  arrival  of  a  customer  put  a  stop  to 
the  conversation,  and  our  hero  resumed  his  work  in  silence. 

At  the  appointed  time  the  youth  was  at  the  Astor  House. 
He  had  sent  a  note  home  to  his  mother,  informing  her  that 
he  should  be  absent  during  the  evening,  so  that  she  might 
not  be  uneasy.  Mr.  Tiverton  had  ordered  a  private  supper, 
and  while  the  two  were  partaking  of  it  the  conversation 
turned  upon  various  topics.  At  first  the  merchant  had 
been  careful  not  to  broach  any  subject  upon  which  he  sup- 
posed the  young  man  would  be  uninformed  ;  but  gradu- 
ally, as  the  conversation  went  on,  topic  after  topic  was 
disposed  of,  and  matters  of  more  than  ordinary  moment 
worked  their  way  upon  the  tapis.  The  youth  seemed  not 
to  be  aware  that  he  was  displaying  any  unexpected  infor- 
mation, but  calmly,  and  with  simple  dignity,  he  expressed  his 
thoughts,  showing  not  only  a  knowledge  which  his  com- 
panion had  not  dreamed  of,  but  also  evincing  a  clear, 
subtle  judgment  which  astonished  his  listener. 

By  and  by  the  subject  of  the  commercial  interests  of  the 
country  came  up,  and,  in  answer  to  some  remark  of  the 
merchant's,  Orion  mentioned  a  few  statistics  which  were 
entirely  new  to  the  former.  Mr.  Tiverton  listened  until  he 
had  concluded,  and  then  asked  him  to  go  on  and  state  the 
rest  of  the  facts.  The  youth  had  become  so  interested  in 
the  subject  that  he  forgot  all  difference  of  social  station 
between  himself  and  his  companion,  and  entered  into  the 


IN  SEARCH  OF  A    SECRET.  173 

requested  explanation  freely  and  frankly.  He  gave  a  con- 
cise account  of  the  commercial  operations  of  the  United 
States  during  the  five  years  last  past ;  compared  them  with 
those  of  England  and  France  ;  presented  the  peculiar  ad- 
vantages of  the  former,  resulting  from  her  immense  internal 
resources  ;  and  wound  up  by  considering  one  of  the  disad- 
vantages our  commerce  had  to  contend  with  from  peculiar 
political  causes.  ~ 

Mr.  Tiverton  was  more  than  astonished  at  the  wondrous 
display  of  deep  knowledge  and  understanding  he  had  thus 
witnessed.  He  was  charmed  and  delighted. 

"  Mr.  Lindell,"  he  uttered,  still  gazing  into  his  compan- 
ion's face  with  a  look  of  earnest  admiration,  "  you  must 
pardon  me  for  my  boldness,  but  I  must  ask  you  how  you 
have  managed  to  gain  such  stores  of  information  on  sub- 
jects of  which  the  most  of  our  scholars  are  ignorant.  I 
freely  admit,  sir,  that  I  am  surprised." 

For  the  first  time  Orion  seemed  to  realize  that  he  had 
been  making  a  display  of  his  attainments,  and  he  was  for 
the  moment  somewhat  disconcerted  ;  but  he  soon  regained 
his  wonted  calmness,  and  then,  while  a  bright  smile  illumi- 
nated his  handsome  features,  he  returned  : 

"  Since  you  ask  me  the  question  I  suppose  I  must  an- 
swer. You  may  call  it  ambition  ;  you  may  call  it  pride  ; 
or  you  may  call  it  a  commendable  emulation  ;  but  when  I 
was  old  enough  to  understand  the  things  which  I  beheld 
about  me,  I  saw  that  there  were  two  classes  of  men  who 
were  really  respected  and  honored  by  their  fellows  :  there 
were  the  honorable  men  of  wealth,  and  the  men  of  high 
intellectual  attainments.  Of  course,  I  had  no  hopes  of 
gaining  wealth,  for  my  tastes  lay  not  in  that  direction.  I 
should  love  to  have  a  great  business  on  my  hands  if  every- 
thing could  be  straight  and  clear,  but  I  am  sure  I  have  no 
faculty  for  making  such  a  business.  Yet  I  saw  not  why  I 
might  not  gain  as  high  a  stand  in  intellectual  attainments 
as  any  one,  and  to  that  end  I  bent  all  my  energies.  I  read 
all  the  books  I  owned,  and  then  good  friends  gave  me  free 
access  to  their  libraries.  I  have  gained  something  already  ; 
but  I  am  young  yet,  and  have  many  advantages  before  me 
still  unimproved." 

"  That  is  what  I  call  an  emulation  of  the  most  honorable 
and  praiseworthy  kind,"  uttered  the  merchant,  warmly  and 


174  ORION,   THE  COLD  BEATER. 

earnestly.  "  And,"  he  added,  while  a  shade  of  sadness 
passed  over  his  face,  "  it  is  far  more  safe  and  sure  as  a 
basis  of  future  peace  and  joy  than  all  the  gold  of  Cali- 
fornia. Ah,  money  cannot  furnish  happiness.  The  humble 
student  in  his  retired  chamber  holds  the  key  to  such  soul- 
treasures  as  many  a  wealthy  man  would  gladly  own  at  the 
expense  of  all  his  gold.  There  is  much  joy  in  the  mer- 
chant palaces  of  the  great  city — there  is  much  of  peace  and 
virtue,  and  much  of  goodness  and  calm  sunshine,  in  those 
sumptuous  dwellings  ;  but,  alas  !  he  is  sadly  mistaken  who 
supposes  that  because  a  family  have  such  a  home  they  must 
be  happy.  Never,  never,  was  there  a  more  foolish  envy 
than  that  which  dwells  in  the  bosom  of  the  honest  mechanic 
when  he  sighs  for  the  wealth  he  sees  others  have.  But 
come  ;  this  won't  carry  us  on  our  journey.  What !  nearly 
eight  ?  I  had  no  idea  it  was  so  late.  However,  we'll  be 
in  time." 

Thus  speaking,  the  merchant  arose  from  the  table,  and 
the  youth  followed  him.  They  passed  down  to  the  office, 
where  the  former  settled  the  bill,  and  then  together  they 
left  the  house.  The  same  course  was  pursued  which 
Thomas  had  taken  in  the  afternoon,  and,  as  they  walked 
swiftly,  they  were  not  long  in  reaching  Third  street.  The 
merchant  found  things  very  different  from  what  they  had 
been  in  the  daytime.  The  dance-cellars  were  open,  and 
up  from  their  reeking  entrances  came  the  mingled  sound 
of  abominable  fiddles,  coarse  songs,  and  bitter  oaths.  The 
low  drinking  houses  were  illuminated  with  tawdry  show, 
and  at  every  doorway,  window  and  bulkhead,  swarms  of 
human  beings  were  to  be  seen. 

Our  two  adventurers  kept  close  together,  and  walked 
straight  on,  and  at  length  the  merchant  led  the  way  into 
the  narrow  passage  through  which  he  had  passed  with  his 
coachman.  He  found  no  one  stirring  in  the  court,  and 
thus  he  gained  the  door  without  molestation.  He  knocked 
as  before,  and  the  same  woman  came  to  the  door. 

"Ah,  sir,"  she  said,  "you're  just  in  time.  The  old 
woman  has  been  in  not  a  bit  over  five  minutes." 

"  Thank  you,  my  good  woman,"  returned  the  merchant ; 
and  as  he  spoke  he  followed  her  into  the  hall,  Orion  com- 
ing close  behind  him. 

The  hgstess — for  so  she  Appeared  to  be — led  the  way  to 


THE   CONFERENCE.  *75 

a  small  room  close  at  hand,  where  sat  Aunt  Rhoda  and  a 
small  girl.  The  old  woman  seemed  somewhat  startled 
upon  beholding  Mr.  Tiverton,  though  she  was  in  no  way 
frightened  ;  and  when  he  advanced  to  where  she  sat,  and 
extended  his  hand,  she  returned  his  salutation  very  kindly 
and  calmly. 

"  Aunt  Rhoda,"  he  said,  "  I  should  like  a  few  minutes  of 
private  conversation  with  you,  if  you  have  no  objections." 

"  I  have  none  at  all,"  the  old  lady  replied,  gazing  up 
through  her  iron-bowed  spectacles  with  a  peculiar  expres- 
sion of  countenance. 

"  I  suppose  we  can  have  a  private  room  for  a  short  time, 
ma'am  ? "  the  visitor  said  to  the  hostess. 

"  Oh,  certainly,  sir.     Here — right  here — this  way." 

Mr.  Tiverton  turned  to  his  companion,  and,  excusing 
himself  to  him,  he  offered  his  hand  to  Aunt  Rhoda  to  assist 
her  in  rising.  She  took  it,  and  then  hobbled  along  by  his 
side  to  the  room  which  the  hostess  had  pointed  out ;  and 
in  a  few  moments  more  Paul  Tiverton  was  alone  with  the 
woman  who,  he  was  sure,  held  a  secret  of  more  than  ordi- 
nary moment  to  him. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  CONFERENCE. — AN  UNEXPECTED  ADVENTURE. 

IT  was  some  time  after  Mr.  Tiverton  took  a  seat  in  front 
of  the  old  woman  before  he  spoke.  For  the  first  time 
in  his  life  he  had  gone  away  from  his  own  home  to  inves- 
tigate an  affair  connected  with  his  "domestic  arrangements. 
He  had  come  here  to  this  out-of-the-way  place,  among  peo- 
ple of  a  class  separate  and  distinct  from  his  own  ;  a  place 
surrounded  by  poverty  and  filth,  and  by  vice  and  crime,  to 
ask  questions  touching  his  own  wife.  For  a  while  a  sense 
of  family  pride  overcame — or,  at  least,  arose  to  an  equality 
with — his  anxious  desire  to  know  the  secret  which  had 
been  hidden  from  him  ;  but  when  he  came  to  remember 
the  situation  in  which  he  was  placed — when  he  remem- 
bered that  his  wife  was  slowly  and  surely  working  the  ruin 
of  herself  and  daughter,  and  blasting  all  the  joys  of  his 
home,  he  was  resolved  to  know  the  secret  if  he  could.  He 


17<>  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

gazed  sharply  into  the  deeply  furrowed  face  before  him, 
and  he  was  sure  that  only  honest  sincerity  dwelt  there. 

"  Aunt  Rhoda,"  he  said, "  you  will  surely  excuse  me  for 
this  visit,  and  for  the  errand  I  have  in  view,  when  you  know 
how  much  I  have  suffered  in  the  dark  and  dubious  suspi- 
cions I  have  held.  I  feel  sure  you  own  the  key  to  them  all, 
and  I  have  sought  you  in  hopes  that  you  will  explain  to  me 
all  that  I  desire  to  understand." 

"  But  how  did  you  know  where  to  look  for  me  ? "  the  old 
woman  asked,  with  the  return  of  a  puzzled  look  which  had 
partly  left  her  face  while  the  merchant  had  been  speaking. 

Mr.  Tiverton  hesitated  a  moment,  though  the  hesitation 
was  hardly  perceptible. 

"  As  I  hope  you  will  be  frank  with  me,  so  will  I  be  frank 
with  you,"  he  replied.  "  I  felt  sure,  from  what  I  saw  and 
heard  on  the  evening  of  your  visit  to  my  house,  that  my 
wife  did  not  wish  me  to  see  you  alone  ;  and  hence  I  feared 
she  might  send  you  off  before  I  could  speak  with  you.  Un- 
der that  impression  I  called  one  of  my  men,  and  had  him 
keep  a  watch  over  all  movements  at  our  doors.  He  did  so. 
He  saw  you  come  out  with  Sarah  Johnson,  and  traced  you 
to  this  house.  So  you  see,  it  was  an  easy  matter  for  me  to 
find  you." 

"  Then  I  shall  not  have  to  explain  why  I  left  your  house 
so  unexpectedly,"  said  Aunt  Rhoda,  with  a  faint  smile, 
which  smile,  however,  was  so  buried  up  in  the  deep,  over- 
lapping furrows  that  it  might  have  been  taken  for  a  curling 
of  the  features  in  contempt. 

"  Of  course  I  know  why  you  left,  though  I  should  like  to 
know  if  my  wife  told  you  why  she  wished  you  to  do  so." 

"  You  have  guessed  so  near  it,  sir,  that  I  have  no  objec- 
tions to  telling  you  the  facts.  Julia  did  not  wish  you  to 
see  me  again,  so  she  urged  me  to  leave  her  house, 
promising  to  find  me  in  a  home  here  as  long  as  I  would 
stay." 

"  Yes — so  I  thought,"  muttered  the  man,  half  to  himself, 
with  his  head  bowed.  "  But,"  he  at  length  continued,  look- 
ing up  again,  "  I  will  come  at  once  to  the  business  I  have 
in  hand.  There  is  some  secret  concerning  Julia's  past  life 
which  I  would  know.  I  do  not  seek  this  knowledge  from 
mere  curiosity,  but  from  a  desire  to  know  how  far  I  can 
use  it  in  curbing  her  present  wild  and  insane  extravagance. 


THE   CONFERENCE.  177 

You  know  everything  connected  with  her  early  life.  Will 
you  not  give  me  what  I  seek  ?  " 

"  But  how  do  you  know  there  is  any  such  secret  ? "  asked 
the  old  woman. 

"  How  do  I  know  ?  Why,  I  am  as  morally  sure  of  it  as 
I  can  be  of  anything  which  my  own  eyes  have  not  wholly 
seen.  When  I  see  a  person  weep  I  know  something  must 
have  touched  that  heart,  and  so  when  I  see  a  woman  act  as 
Julia  has  acted,  I  know  that  there  must  be  some  deep  cause 
for  it." 

"  But  she  may  have  wished  only  to  be  rid  of  my  pres- 
ence, and,  fearing  that  you  would  insist  upon  my  staying, 
she  took  the  step  she  did." 

"  Look  ye,  Aunt  Rhoda,"  uttered  the  merchant,  quickly 
and  promptly,  "  do  you  mean  to  say  that  there  is  no  secret 
— no  event  of  deep  importance — connected  with  Julia's  past 
life  which  I  do  not  know  ?  Will  you  look  me  in  the  face 
and  tell  me  truthfully  that  you  know  of  nothing  such  ? " 

"  I  cannot  do  that,"  replied  the  old  woman,  after  a  few 
moments  of  hesitation. 

u  I  thought  not.     And  now  will  you  tell  me  what  it  is  ?  " 

"  But  may  you  not  imagine  something  a  great  deal  worse 
than  there  are  grounds  for  imagining  ?  " 

"  I  cannot." 

"  Why,  surely,  the  simple  passage  you  witnessed  between 
Julia  and  myself  would  not  warrant  any  such  suspicions." 

"  Ah,  but  I  have  seen  other  things.  Not  long  since  an 
old  man  called  at  my  house.  He  came  to  inquire  for  you. 
When  my  wife  saw  him  she  gave  a  shriek  and  fainted  ;  and 
he  was  moved  as  much  as  she.  My  little  son  had  given 
him  a  purse  of  gold,  but  when  he  found  that  he  was  Julia's 
child  he  cast  it  down.  I  followed  him  to  another  room,  and 
questioned  him,  but  he  would  answer  me  nothing.  He  was 
pale  and  agitated,  and  really  frantic.  All  I  could  get  from 
him  was,  to  go  ask  my  wife.  I  did  ask  her,  but  she  would 
tell  me  nothing.  And  now  can  you  wonder  that  I  have 
come  to  you  ?  " 

"  But  this  old  man  ? "  cried  Aunt  Rhoda,  nervously  and 
eagerly.  "  Who  is  he  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  tell.  He  asked  for  you— 'twas  to  find  you 
that  he  ventured  into  my  house." 

"  But  his  name  ?  " 


I?8  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

"  He  gave  it  as  Daro  Kid." 

"  Kid — Kid,"  muttered  the  old  woman  to  herself.  «  How 
old  was  he  ? " 

"Well — he  looked  very  old  because  he  had  seen  a  hard, 
wearing  life  ;  but  I  do  not  believe  he  was  much  over  fifty." 

"  Did  he  look  like  a  seaman  ?" 

"  Yes,  he  was  a  seaman  ;  and  I  should  judge  from  what 
he  said  that  he  had  been  away  from  his  home  many  years. 
He  said  that  you  were  the  only  friend  he  had  on  earth,  and 
even  you  might  not  live." 

"  Oh  !  where  is  that  man  now  ?  "  Aunt  Rhoda  asked,  her 
frame  trembling  violently  as  she  spoke. 

"  I  do  not  know.  I  have  searched  for  him,  but  to  no 
effect." 

"  I  must  see  him.     His  name  is  not  Daro  Kid." 

"  Ah — what  is  it  ?  " 

"  Never  mind.  That  is  his  own  business,  and  I  suppose, 
from  his  giving  that  name,  that  he  wished  his  real  name 
kept  secret  for  the  present,  at  least.  Oh,  I  must  see  him. 
I  have  been  out  to-day  searching  for  one  whom  I  once 
loved,  but  I  found  nothing.  I  dreamed  not  that  he  was  in 
the  great  city.  But  we  can  find  him  somewhere.  Ah — 
could  you  not  put  an  advertisement  in  the  paper  ?  Say 
something  like  this  :  '  If  Daro  Kid  will  call  at  such  a  place 
he  shall  see,  or  hear  from,  the  woman  for  whom  he  was 
searching.'  Might  not  something  like  that  reach  him  ?  Oh, 
I  do  want  to  see  him,  sir.  Will  you  not  help  me  in  it  ? " 

"  He  might  be  found  in  that  way,"  returned  Mr.  Tiver- 
ton,  thoughtfully.  "  Of  course  he  has  given  that  same 
name  wherever  tie  is  stopping,  and  he  could  not  find  a  pub- 
lic house  of  any  description  where  some  daily  paper  is  not 
taken.  I  will  put  such  an  advertisement  in  the  Herald 
and  Sun." 

"  Oh,  if  you  will,  sir,  I  shall  be  very  grateful.  I  must 
find  that  man." 

"  I  will,"  said  the  merchant.  *•  And,  in  return,"  he  added 
with  an  imploring  look,  "  you  will  surely  tell  me  what  I 
ask.  You  will  open  to  me  this  secret  which  is  known  well 
to  you.  Come — you  can  have  no  reason  for  keeping  it 
from  me.  I  have  a  right  to  know.  If  you  would  do  me  a 
favor,  tell  it  to  me." 

"  Do  you  a  favor  ?  "  repeated  the  woman  with  marked 


THE   CONFERENCE.  1 79 

emphasis.  "  Oh,  you  know  not  when  you  are  well  off.  A 
favor?  Go  home,  Paul  Tiverton,  and  leave  this  secret 
locked  up  as  it  is.  You  have  read  of  Pandora.  She  could 
not  help  opening  the  chest  which  contained  all  the  ills  of 
life.  If  you  would  be  happy,  let  this  thing  rest." 

"  You  mistake  me,  Aunt  Rhoda,"  urged  the  merchant. 
"  No  possible  information  could  make  me  more  miserable 
or  unhappy  than  I  am  now.  Tell  me — it  will  be  a  favor." 

"  But  I  cannot,  Mr.  Tiverton — I  cannot.  I  had  hoped 
you  would  not  urge  me.  I  am  under  a  most  solemn  obli- 
gation not  to  lisp  it.  I  could  not  tell  you  without  breaking 
an  oath  as  solemn  as  mortal  can  take.  Now  you  have  my 
situation." 

"  And  you  gave  this  promise  to  my  wife  ? "  said  the  mer- 
chant bitterly. 

"  I  gave  it,  sir,  and  I  cannot  break  it.  It  is  not  generous 
to  push  an  old  woman  under  those  circumstances." 

The  gentleman  felt  this  rebuke,  and  after  a  few  moments 
of  thought  he  said  : 

"  Pardon  me.  I  meant  not  to  offend  you  ;  but  I  have 
looked  forward  to  this  meeting  with  much  hope,  and  I  could 
not  hear  your  answer  without  bitter  disappointment." 

"  Oh,  fool  !  You  know  not  what  you  say.  Go  home 
and  forget  this  whole  thing.  Forget  that  you  ever  held  a 
doubt  in  your  bosom  of  your  wife's  perfect  freedom  from 
all  evil.  You  will  see  Fra — a — a — Mr. — oh,  I  remember — 
Daro  Kid.  You  will  probably  see  Daro  Kid.  You  will  put 
in  the  advertisement,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  I  shall,  most  assuredly." 

"  Ah — I  see  ;  you  mean  to  question  him.  But  take  my 
advice,  and  don't  you  do  it." 

"  We  won't  think  of  that  now,  Aunt  Rhoda.  I  suppose 
I  shall  get  no  more  from  you." 

"  Not  on  this  point,  sir." 

"  Then  I  will  detain  you  no  longer,"  the  merchant  said, 
at  the  same  time  rising  to  his  feet.  "Of  course  you  will 
remain  here  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  shall  remain  here  until  I  find  some  of  my 
friends." 

"  Then  I  shall  know  where  to  send  Kid  if  I  find  him." 

Thus  speaking  he  led  the  way  to  the  room  where  he  had 
left  our  hero,  Aunt  Rhoda  following  close  behind  him 


l8o  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

"  I  hope  you  have  not  become  tired  of  waiting,  Orion," 
the  merchant  said,  as  he  picked  up  his  hat. 

"  Not  at  all,  sir.     I  had  expected  to  wait  longer." 

Mr.  Tiverton  thanked  the  old  lady  for  her  kindness,  and 
then  turning  to  the  hostess  he  returned  her  thanks  for  the 
same.  She  took  the  lamp  in  her  hand  when  she  saw  he 
was  going,  and  preceded  him  to  the  hall.  Orion  was  the 
last  to  leave  the  room,  and  he  closed  the  door  after  him. 
About  midway  in  the  hall  the  merchant  stopped,  and  was 
upon  the  point  of  speaking  to  the  hostess,  when  the  front 
door,  which  had  been  ajar,  was  pushed  violently  open,  and 
a  female,  with  a  little  child  dragging  by  the  hand,  came 
rushing  in. 

The  woman  of  the  house  uttered  a  cry  of  fright,  and  Mr. 
Tiverton  started  back. 

"  Save  me  !  oh,  save  me  !  "the  fugitive  cried,  springing 
to  Mr.  Tiverton's  side  and  gazing  up  into  his  face. 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  Orion,  leaping  forward.  "  Mrs. 
Milmer  !  is  this  you  ?  " 

The  poor  woman  recognized  her  generous  protector  in 
an  instant,  and  with  cry  of  hope  and  joy  she  sank  down  by 
his  side. 

<*  Who  is  after  you  ?  "  Orion  quickly  asked. 

"  Glicker  !  "  she  gasped. 

"  Then  fear  not." 

Just  as  these  words  escaped  the  youth's  lips  Mr.  Duffy 
Glicker  made  his  appearance  in  the  hall.  By  the  light  of 
the  hostess's  lamp  he  saw  the  two  men,  and  he  hesitated  a 
few  moments. 

"  Be  not  alarmed,  sir,"  our  hero  whispered  to  the  mer- 
chant. "  I  can  easily  dispose  of  this  man/' 

u  There  are  more  in  the  court,"  faintly  uttered  Constance. 

With  a  quick  movement  Orion  sprang  forward  and 
knocked  Glicker  down,  and  then  kept  on  and  closed  and 
locked  the  door.  After  this  he  turned  to  the  hostess  and 
asked  her  if  there  was  any  means  of  gaining  the  street  by 
the  back  way. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said,"  she  replied.  "  You  can  go  out  of  our 
kitchen  door  into  a  little  yard  that  belongs  to  the  house  on 
Fourth  street." 

As  the  woman  finished  speaking  Duffy  Glicker  had 
gained  his  feet,  and  was  rubbing  his  head. 


AN  UNEXPECTED  ADVENTURE.  i8t 

"  Look  ye,"  spoke  Orion,  approaching  him.  u  You  see 
you  and  I  have  met  again.  Now  are  you  going  to  give  up 
this  woman  quietly,  or  are  you  determined  to  have  a  fuss  ? " 

The  villain  made  no  other  answer  than  a  fierce  oath,  and 
with  that  he  clenched  his  fists  and  squared  off. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed — keep  perfectly  quiet,"  the  youth  said 
to  the  hostess,  who  seemed  to  be  frightened.  "  Do  nothing 
unless  you  run  out  by  the  back  way  and  start  up  the  police." 

"  I'll  do  it,"  she  uttered  ;  and  no  sooner  had  she  spoken 
than  she  darted  off. 

"  The  police,  is  it  ?  "  groaned  Glicker,  at  the  same  time 
making  a  furious  pass  at  the  gold-beater's  head. 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  latter,  giving  him  first  a  slap  upon 
the  left  cheek — then  a  slight  tap  over  the  eye — and  then  a 
blow  upon  the  side  of  the  head  that  felled  him  to  the  floor. 

"  Now,  you  cowardly  villain,"  cried  Orion,  standing  over 
the  fallen  man,  "  you  have  had  opportunities  enough  to  try 
your  hand  upon  me,  and  you  shall  have  no  more.  Lie  there, 
sir,  or  I'll  make  you  !  Offer  to  get  up  and  I'll  knock  you 
back  again.  I  give  you  fair  warning.  I  am  not  a  prize- 
fighter, and  I  want  no  scuffle  with  you.  Lie  still,  I  say  !  " 

The  fellow  attempted  to  rise,  and  Orion  simply  put  him 
back  without  striking  him. 

"  Let  me  up,"  the  scamp  at  length  begged.  "  Let  me  up, 
and  I'll  go  off  in  peace.  Come — let  me  up,  and  you  may 
have  the  woman  in  welcome." 

Orion  hesitated  a  moment  ere  he  answered.  He  knew 
that  if  the  the  fellow  was  arrested  both  he  and  Mrs.  Milmer 
would  be  called  up  as  witnesses,  and  he  hardly  liked  the 
idea,  though  he  did  want  to  see  the  rascal  punished. 

"  If  I  will  let  you  up,"  he  said,  "  will  you  promise  to  clear 
out,  and  never  trouble  this  woman  again  ?  " 

" !  "  This  long  dash  may  be  ima- 
gined to  represent  as  many  oaths  as  you  please  to  think 
of.  All  is,  you  can  not  think  of  any  more  horrid  than  the 
villain  applied  to  both  the  youth  and  Constance  Milmer  ; 
but  he  wound  up,  however,  by  promising  all  he  had  been 
asked  to  promise. 

Orion  was  upon  the  point  of  letting  him  up,  when  the 
hostess  returned,  followed  by  three  policemen,  and  at  the 
same  moment  the  fellows  whom  Glicker  had  left  in  the 
court  began  to  thump  upon  the  door.  As  soon  as  our  hero 


r82  ORION-,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

saw  the  officers  he  let  the  villain  up,  and  then,  in  as  few 
words  as  possible,  explained  all  that  had  happened.  As 
the  thumping  upon  the  door  began  to  increase  the  police- 
men went  and  opened  it.  There  were  three  men  out  there. 
They  made  a  movement  as  though  they  would  enter  when 
the  door  was  first  opened,  but  as  the  gleaming  moonlight 
fell  upon  those  significant  yellow  stars,  the  fellows  turned 
and  made  a  retreat  that  would  have  done  credit,  in  point 
of  speed,  to  the  Shropshire  Stag-hound  Boy. 

^Vs  soon  as  these  doughty  knights  had  thus  raised  the 
siege,  the  officers  returned  to  the  hall. 

"  Aha,"  uttered  one  of  them,  "  this  is  you,  Mr.  Duffy 
Walker  Glicker,  is  it  ?  " 

Mr.  Glicker  evidently  felt  uneasy. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  yer  face  ?  "  the  policeman  re- 
sumed. "  I'm  afraid  you've  been  up  to  some  of  your  old 
tricks.  It's  only  a  week  ago,  or  so,  that  you  were  put  un- 
der bonds  to  keep  the  peace." 

"  Well — and  if  I  was,  I  hain't  broken  it,"  the  villain 
growled.  "  This  ere  cove  's  been  and  broke  the  peace. 
'Twan't  me." 

"  And  he  came  pretty  nigh  breaking  your  head,  too, 
didn't  he  ?" 

Glicker  made  no  reply  to  this,  and  the  officers  turned  to 
the  youth. 

"  What  shall  we  do  with  him  ? "  the  leader  asked. 

"  I  am  not  particular  about  having  him  arrested,"  Orion 
said.  "  If  he  will  only  let  this  poor  woman  be  in  peace,  he 
may  go  in  welcome.  It  was  for  trying  to  get  her  away  once 
before  that  he  was  put  under  bonds." 

Upon  consulting  with  Mr.  Tiverton  it  was  finally  con- 
cluded that  the  fellow  should  be  allowed  to  depart. 

"  But  mind  you,"  said  one  of  the  policemen,  "  you  will  be 
narrowly  watched  from  this  time,  and  if  we  catch  you  at 
any  of  your  tricks  again  you'll  suffer  for  it.  D'ye  un- 
derstand ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  go." 

Thus  admonished  Mr.  Duffy  Glicker  turned  to  depart, 
when  Mrs.  Milmer  caught  Orion  by  the  arm,  and,  in  a  hur- 
ried whisper,  exclaimed  : 

"  Oh — that  paper  !     Couldn't  you  get  it  ?  " 


AN  UNEXPECTED  ADVENTURE.  183 

"  Here  !  Stop  a  moment  !  "  the  youth  cried,  leaping  to 
the  door  just  in  time  to  prevent  Glicker  from  going  out. 
"  You  have  a  paper  which  belongs  to  this  woman.  Give  it 
up  to  her." 

u  I  hain't  got  it  with  me,"  replied  the  villain,  somewhat 
confused. 

"  Beware,  sir.  Give  it  up,  or  we'll  have  you  carried  to 
the  station-house  and  searched  !  " 

"  Well,  ye  may  search  as  much  as  you  please  ;  ye  won't 
find  it,  for  I  tell  you  'taint  here." 

"  Where  is  it !  "  asked  one  of  the  policemen. 

"  I  don't  justly  know  now,  sir  ;  but  I  may  find  it ;  and  if 
I  do,  I'll  give  it  to  some  of  ye." 

"  Oh,  I  wish  you  could  get  it,"  the  widow  whispered 
again  to  Orion,  having  worked  her  way  around  to  where 
he  stood.  "  I  wish  I  could  have  it.  It  may  tell  me  of 
things  that  I  wish  very  much  to  know." 

"  But  how  long  since  you  have  seen  it  in  his  hands  ?  " 

"  Not  since  I  left  the  old  home." 

"  Then  he  may  not  have  it  with  him.  He  would  not 
be  very  likely  to  carry  it  with  him  all  the  time,  if  it  is 
valuable." 

This  seemed  reasonable,  and  at  length  the  fellow  was 
allowed  to  depart  upon  the  promise  that  he  would  give  up 
the  paper  on  the  first  opportunity.  The  officers  were  then 
thanked  for  their  promptness,  and  ere  long  afterwards 
Orion  and  Mr.  Tiverton,  with  the  widow  and  her  child  in 
company,  left  the  place.  When  they  reached  the  street  the 
merchant  said  to  the  woman  : 

"  I  promised  our  good  friend  here  that  I  would  give  you 
a  home.  Our  women  folks  have  considerable  sewing  on 
hand,  and  I  would  like  to  know,  now,  if  you  will  go  home 
with  me  at  once.  What  say  you  ?  " 

The  poor  woman's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  after  a 
moment's  thought,  she  replied  : 

"  If  you  want  my  services,  sir,  —if  you  need  the  work — I 
should  be  happy  to  go." 

"  Then  it's  all  settled  :  for  we  do  need  it.     So  come  on." 

The  party  started  more  quickly  forward  after  this,  and 
pretty  soon  Orion  took  Lizzie  up  in  his  arms. 

"  Oh,  sir— I  can  walk,"  she  said. 

f  But  you  will  let  me  carry  you,  if  I  wish  ?  " 


184  ORION,  THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

«  Yes,  sir." 

"  Then  I'll  do  so  ;  for  I  am  very  happy,  Lizzie.  I  am  so 
glad  that  I  have  found  you  and  your  good  mamma,  and 
that  you  are  going  to  have  so  good  a  home." 

And  he  was  happy  ;  he  was  not  alone  in  the  feeling. 
No — for  those  big  tears  that  rolled  down  the  mother's 
cheeks,  upon  which  the  moonbeams  glittered,  were  tears  of 
joy.  And  there  was  much  of  joy,  too,  in  that  expression 
upon  Paul  Tiverton's  face  ;  though  there  were  other  feel- 
ings in  his  soul,  alas  !  which,  in  the  general  gladness,  he 
tried  to  hide ! 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE   PRINCE. — LOST  !    LOST  ! 

WHILE  Mr.  Tiverton  and  Orion  were  on  their  way  to 
the  scene  of  their  adventure,  Mrs.  Tiverton  and  Isa- 
bella were  seated  in  the  parlor  awaiting  the  coming 
of  the  Count  Adolphus  Gerald  Charlemagne  Gusterhausen. 
They  were  both  very  anxious,  for  the  daughter  wished  to 
see  her  lover,  while  the  mother  was  moved  by  the  hope  that 
she  might  be  the  first  private  lady  to  entertain  His  High- 
ness, the  Prince  Bernardo  de  Tavora  ;  and  she  felt  a  sort  of 
wish,  too,  that  she  might  inspire  him  with  a  deep  admira- 
tion of  herself. 

Poor  fools  !  Not  butterflies,  but  moths — moths  that 
know  no  better  than  to  fly  into  every  flame  they  find,  with 
their  flimsy  wings  fluttering  in  pain,  and  still  in  and  in  again, 
while  fire  is  in  sight.  Butterflies  are  things  of  joy  and  sun- 
shine, but  not  so  these  two  beings.  They  were  things  of 
night — flitting  about  in  gas-light — sparkling  only  with  paint 
and  jewels,  and  never  so  apparently  happy  as  when  farthest 
removed  from  nature  and  sense.  God's  glorious  sunlight 
was  an  infliction  which  they  bore  sometimes  of  an  after- 
noon ;  but  never,  like  the  London  beau,  were  they  placed 
under  the  torturing  necessity  of  beholding  a  sunrise  scene. 
Mrs.  Tiverton  had  been  heard  to  say  that  "  animals  were 
made  for  sunrise  ;  and  even  the  lower  orders  of  humanity 
are  fprcec}  to  be  out  in  the  early  morn  ;  but  to  a  delicate, 


THE  PRINCE— LOST!  LOST!  185 

sensitive  system  the  disagreeable  atmosphere  of  morning  is  a 
•  miasma  only  to  be  shunned." 

Such  was  the  genius  that  presided  over  the  home  of  an 
intellectual,  honorable  man  !  Yet  there  was  one  spirit  in 
the  household  that  shed  some  sunlight  over  the  otherwise 
desolate  sphere.  Young  Conrad  was  a  source  of  joy  to  the 
unfortunate  husband.  To  his  bedside  the  merchant  could 
go  and  find  peace.  An  angel  spirit  pervaded  the  soul 
of  the  boy-invalid,  and  his  smile  was  sweet  and  hope- 
ful. But,  alas  !  hopeful  of  earth  no  more  !  No  more 
did  the  light  form  grace  the  father's  place  of  retire- 
ment— no  more  was  that  soft,  weak  voice  heard  in  the 
places  where  the  day-time  visitor  had  been  wont  to  hear  it. 
The  dark  angel  had  drawn  near,  and  nearer  still — the  cold 
hand  had  grown  heavy,  and  more  heavy — and  now  the  boy 
must  make  his  downy  couch  his  abiding-place  all  the  night 
and  all  the  day.  Sometimes  he  felt  the  wish  that  his 
mother  and  sister  might  love  him  better,  but  never  a  word 
of  that  passed  his  lips.  He  only  blessed  them  when  they 
came,  and  blessed  them  when  they  were  absent. 

But  to  return  to  the  parlor.  The  mother  and  daughter 
sat  there,  loaded  with  their  whole  substance  of  jewelry,  and 
painted  with  more  than  ordinary  skill  and  care.  Isabella 
had  been  thumping  out  a  new  polka  upon  the  piano-forte — 
a  polka  the  only  recommendation  of  which  was,  that  in  or- 
der to  perform  it  every  key  of  the  instrument  had  to  be 
slammed  as  nearly  at  the  same  time  as  possible,  thus  pro- 
ducing one  glorious,  ecstatic  thundering  of  indistinguishable 
sound.  The  mother  had  just  said,  "  2&dif-chiful,"  when 
the  tinkling  of  the  door-bell  mingled  with  the  dying  crash 
of  the  piano. 

"  Oh,  it's  them  !  "  cried  the  daughter,  springing  to  a  seat 
upon  one  of  the  tete-a-tetes. 

And  so  it  proved,  for  in  a  few  moments  the  Count  Adol- 
phus  G.  C.  Gusterhausen  was  ushered  into  the  apartment. 
Behind  him  came  what,  at  first  glance,  might  have  been 
taken  for  a  full-dressed  orang-outang,  but  which  was  in- 
troduced as  the  Prince  Bernardo  de  Tavora.  He  was  a 
small  specimen  of  the  human  species,  with  his  face  almost 
entirely  covered  with  black  hair.  His  beard  was  very  thick, 
growing  upon  the  cheek  nearly  to  the  bottom  of  the  eye, 
and  completely  hiding  everything  below.  The  nose  pro- 


iB6  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

truded  like  the  beak  of  a  huge  bird  peeping  over  the  edge 
of  its  nest,  while  the  small,  deep-set  black  eyes  were  over- 
arched by  shaggy  brows  that  nearly  met  the  crinkling  hair 
of  the  head.  His  dress  was  of  black  throughout,  and  made 
to  fit  very  closely^  and  upon  it  the  jewelry  flashed  in  tawdry 
profusion.  His  age  might  be  about  as  easily  guessed  as 
that  of  a  horse.  His  teeth  appeared  to  be  sound,  and  his 
hair  not  yet  gray ;  so  we  may  believe  he  was  not  very  old. 

"  Aw  !  "  he  uttered,  with  a  very  Italianish  shrug  of  the 
shoulders,  "  It  do  me  good  to  be  presenteed  to  the  lar-dees 
of  Amereka.  I  feel  ver  mooch  please  to  mark  you  arquan- 
tence.  I  do — aw — 'pon  me  honaw — I  do." 

This  last  was  spoken  with  the  right  hand  pressed  hard 
against  the  left  breast,  and  the  body  bent  very  near  to  a 
right  angle,  the  head,  however,  sticking  upright  like  the 
head  of  a  turtle. 

The  ladies  bowed  and  twisted  themselves  in  a  manner 
most  excruciating,  and  the  sweetest  smiles  they  could  com- 
mand were  brought  out  for  use. 

"  Wheech  did  you  say  was  te  mad-ame  ? "  asked  the 
prince,  gazing  from  the  mother  to  the  daughter,  and  then 
upon  his  companion. 

"  Dis  ish  Madam  Tiverton,"  replied  the  count,  pointing 
towards  the  hostess. 

"  Ah,  eempossebel  !  "  uttered  the  orang,  gazing  with 
well-feigned  astonishment  upon  the  lady.  "  You  no  mean 
mad-ame  be  te  dame — te  pareent — of  te  senora  Isabella  !  " 

"  Yes,  mon  prince,  'tish  verily  so." 

"  Now,  me  can  hardly  credit  te  asserte-on.  Ah — mad-am 
— is  too  young — to  be  te  parent." 

Mrs.  Tiverton  smiled  and  twisted  more  than  ever ;  and 
at  that  moment  she  would  have  given  a  great  deal  could 
she  have  only  blushed.  But  the  color  of  her  face  was  a 
fixed  fact,  which  nothing  but  water  could  change.  How- 
ever, she  was  exceedingly  moved  by  the  delicate  (!)  flattery 
of  the  prince,  and  finally  assured  him  that  she  was  really 
Isabella's  mother.  De  Tavora  seemed  at  length  willing  to 
believe  the  assertion,  though  he  still  persisted  that  it  ap- 
peared '  '  eempossebel. 

After  a  short  time  spent  in  commonplace  remarks  the 
Count  and  Isabella  withdrew  to  the  rear  parlor,  leaving 
Mrs.  Tiverton  and  the  Prince  together  upon  the  sofas,  where 


THE  PRINCE— LOST!  LOST!  187 

they  conversed  in  low,  dying  tones,  each  seeming  to  outvie 
the  other  in  silly,  nonsensical  twaddle. 

"  If  I  have  been  correctly  informed  your  husband  is  a 
very  commonplace  sort  of  a  man,"  said  the  prince,  speak- 
ing very  carefully,  and  losing  a  part  of  his  intensely  foreign 
accent  and  idiom.  "  Mind  you — I  know  he  must  be  a  very 
goot  man,  or  he  never  could  'ave  gained  sooch  a  wife.  But 
me  mean  he  no  move  in  our  circles." 

"  Ah — you  are  rigjit,  prince,"  the  lady  replied,  in  a  half-sad 
tone.  "  Mr.  T.  is  not  the  man  for  one  who  takes  pleasure 
in  society.  "  Alas  !  what  should  we  be  without  society  !  " 

«  Cats — dogs — owls — bats  !  "  cried  the  prince  with  heroic 
emphasis.  "  No'ting  more.  Societee  is  te  blessing  of  life. 
Ah,  what  happiness  if  I  'ave  sooch  a  wife." 

This  came  out  with  a  real  groan,  and  Mrs.  Tiverton  at 
once  felt  called  upon  to  sympathize  with  him. 

"  You  must  long  for  companionship,"  she  said  feel- 
ingly. 

"  Ah — I  do.  I  have  a  ver  few  teems  seen  weemen  dat  I 
could  'ave  loved  fondly  ;  but  dey's  all  been  marreed. 
What  for  you  have  husband  before  I  come  ?  Oh  !  why  the 
fates  keep  no  one  jewel  for  me  !  If  me  'ave  found  you  free 
you  should  'ave  gone  to  me  palace  on  the  Arno,  where  te 
little  birds  sing  all  day,  an'  te  seelver  waters  dance  in  te 
moonlight  all  te  night.  Noble  damsels  should  'ave  anticee- 
pated  you  everee  wish,  an'  te  lords  an'  nobles  should  'ave 
kneeled  at  your  feet.  But  alas  !  your  beauty  was  not  for 
me.  I  am  soree — oh  !  ver  soree  !  " 

"  Oh,  cruel  fate  !  "  sighed  the  lady,  never  drawing  away 
the  hand  which  the  orang  had  taken,  and  shrinking  not 
away  as  he  moved  nearer  to  her  side. 

"  You  speak  te  truth,  dear  ladee,"  the  prince  murmured. 
6 *  It  be  a  crueel  fate — ah,  ver  crueel  !  They  tell  me " 

"  They?  "  interrupted  Mrs.  Tiverton,  with  a  jealous  tone 
and  look. 

"  I  mean  te  count.  Ah,  dear  senora,  I  'ave  made  no 
other  acquaintance  in  dis  cetee  ;  an'  I  'ave  no  desire  to 
make  any  more.  Oh,  when  I  can  no  longer  bask  in  te 
sweet  sunlight  of  your  smiles,  ten  I  shall  go  home  to  me 
own  parlese  on  the  Arno,  an'  pass  te  rest  of  me  tays  in  se- 
clusion and  sorrow.  Even  now  I  weesh  I  'ave  no  seen  you. 
I  weesh  I  'ave  no  looked  upon  you  beautee,  for  now  te 


1 88  ORION,  THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

arrow  'ave  pierced  to  me  'art,  and  love  is  takeen  posses- 
se-on  of  me  whole  soul !  " 

"  Ah,  prince,  you  must  not  speak  so.  Indeed,  you  must 
not.  I  must  not  listen  ;  I  ought  not  to  listen  !  " 

"  Ah,  it  is  me  fate  !  "  cried  the  orang,  in  agony.  "  I  'ave 
made  you  angry  !  You  will  drive  me  from  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  no,  prince.  I  could  not  do  that.  You  are 
cruel !  " 

"  But  you  will  not  let  me  take  your  fair  hand  again  ?  " 

"  I  ought  not  to." 

"  Then  I  must  leave  you,"  uttered  the  prince,  who  had 
already  taken  the  jewelled  hand,  and  was  now  pressing  it 
against  his  black  satin  vest. 

"  Oh,  be  not  cruel.  Torture  me  not,  dear  prince.  You 
were  going  to  tell  me  something  the  count  had  said." 

"  Ah,  yes,"  returned  de  Tavora,  seeming  to  have  recov- 
ered from  his  intense  agony.  "  The  count  'ave  told  me 
dat  your  husband  ver  seldom  go  veeth  you  anywhere." 

"  Alas  !  'tis  too  true,  dear  prince." 

"  What  a  pitee  !  Me  no  tink  it  hardly  right  for  such  a 
man  to  hold  te  purse  for  his  beautiful  weefe." 

"  My  husband  does  not  hold  my  purse,  sir,"  the  lady  re- 
turned, somewhat  proudly. 

"  Ah,"  uttered  the  prince,  with  a  peculiar  sparkle  of  the 
eyes.  "  Ten  you  'ave  your  own  purse  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear  prince." 

"  You  is  most  fortunate  in  dat.  Ver  few  womeen  are  so 
happy.  Though  monee  is  no  account  to  me,  yet  I  know 
how  mooch  happiness  te  free  control  of  it  can  give.  I  say 
it  is  no  account  to  me.  I  mean  dat  I  keep  no  run  of  it. 
Whether  I  have  at  this  moment  ten  meelions,  or  fifteen 
meelions,  I  could  not  tell.  My  bankers  know  to  a  ducat. 
Ah,  dese  bankers  are  queer  fellows.  I  don't  see  how  the 
deuce  they  manage  to  keep  such  a  run  of  monee.  Ton  my 
honor,  I  never  could  do  it — nevare.  I  can  spend  it — ha, 
ha,  ha — but  I  don't  know  where  it  comes  from,  only  dat  my 
bankers  pour  it  out  when  I  send  for  it." 

"  Oh,  you  must  be  happy,"  murmured  the  lady,  almost 
enviously. 

"  Happee  ?  No  !  I  am  miserabel !  Of  what  use  is  it 
all  to  me  ?  Ah,  if  I  'ave  sooch  a  weefe  to  spend  it  for,  den 
I  should  be  happee  !  " 


THE   PRINCE— LOST!   LOST!  i#9 

At  this  point  Mrs.  Tiverton  fairly  trembled.  She  allowed 
the  prince  to  kiss  her  hand,  and  a  low,  deep  sigh  escaped 
from  her  lips  ! 

"  But,"  resumed  the  orang,  in  a  tone  and  manner  which 
might  have  appeared  over-anxious  to  a  careful  observer, 
"  I  thought  wifes  could  not  hold  property  in  dis  countree 
while  the  husband  lived." 

"  Oh,  yes,  prince.     I  hold  my  property  in  my  own  name." 

"  Then  I  'ave  learn  something  of  dis  countree  which  I 
nevare  knew  before.  But  I  suppose  te  weefe  cannot  hold 
only  so  mooch  ?  " 

"  As  much  as  she  can  own,"  repied  the  lady. 

«  Say  —  ten  thousand  dollars,"  suggested  the  prince, 
carefully. 

"  Oh,  I  hold  over  a  hundred  thousand." 

"What?  Not  you?  You  no  mean  dat  you  'ave  over  a 
hoondred  tousand  dollars  wheech  you  can  draw  at  any  mo- 
ment ? "  exclaimed  de  Tavora,  trying  hard  to  hide  his  sat- 
isfaction. 

"  Yes,  prince,  it  is  even  so.  And  thus  you  see  that  my 
husband  is  not  such  a  thorough  master  of  my  movements, 
after  all." 

The  facts  of  this  case  were  just  here  :  When  Paul 

Tiverton  took  Julia  Church  for  his  wife  she  was  the  pos- 
sessor of  one  hundred  thousand  dollars,  which  had  been 
left  to  her  by  her  father.  At  the  expiration  of  a  few  years 
she  used  this  fact  as  a  source  of  annoyance  to  her  husband. 
If  he  dared  to  hint  she  was  needlessly  extravagant,  she 
quickly  informed  him  that  he  had  a  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars of  her  money.  At  first  she  only  did  this  when  he  spoke 
to  her  of  her  extravagance — of  that  extravagance  which 
looked  vain  and  foolish — but  at  length,  when  she  found 
how  it  annoyed  him,  she  used  it  whenever  he  dared  to  cor- 
rect her  for  any  fault.  If  he  hinted  that  she  was  ruining 
her  health,  she  simply  informed  him  that  she  "  did  not  give 
him  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  to  pay  him  for  chiding 
her."  Finally,  the  poor  man  could  stand  it  no  more,  and 
having  called  his  wife  into  the  parlor  he  handed  her  a  small 
book,  saying,  as  he  did  so  : 

"  There,  Julia,  is  your  bank-book.  I  have  this  day 
placed  in  the  bank,  in  your  name,  and  subject  ^lone  to  your 
,  one  hundred  *md  thirty  thousand  dollars,  Ttiaf  is  the 


19°  ORION-,    THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

principal,  and  the  interest  for  a  little  over  four  years,  of  all 
the  property  you  ever  owned  to  my  knowledge.  Now  come 
to  me  for  whatever  you  want — come  freely — for  I  have 
enough,  and  you  shall  never  ask  me  in  vain.  But  remem- 
ber from  this  time  forth  I  have  no  money  of  yours  !  " 

On  that  occasion  the  wife  wept  profusely,  and  begged 
that  her  husband  would  take  it  all  back  ;  but  he  knew  her 
too  well.  He  told  her  he  should  remember  nothing  of  her 
injustice — he  only  wished  to  give  her  her  own,  and  bury,  if 
possible  all  cause  of  trouble.  For  a  few  days  the  wife  was 
unhappy  ;  but  it  gradually  wore  off,  though  she  was  never  so 
free  again  in  asking  him  for  money,  often  getting  Isabella, 
after  she  grew  up,  to  do  it  for  her.  From  her  own  fund 
she  had  drawn  nearly  all  the  interest,  but  the  principal  was 
still  untouched. 

Thus  was  Julia  Tiverton  situated  in  regard  to  pecuniary 
matters,  and  she  had  been  heard  to  boast  among  a  certain 
few  that  her  money  was  where  her  husband  could  not  touch 
it.  Perhaps  she  thought  so. 

For  some  moments  after  the  prince  had  gained  this 
knowledge  he  was  obliged  to  maintain  silence  in  order  to 
hide  his  emotion.  And  yet  he  needn't  have  been  particular, 
for  the  foolish  woman  would  not  have  discovered  it.  She 
was  too  deeply  lost  in  the  bewildering  dazzle  of  the 
"  Prince  "  to  notice  his  tone  or  looks.  Whether  "  in  shape 
of  a  camel,"  or  "like  a  weasel," or  "  very  like  a  whale,"  it 
would  have  been  all  right  to  her.  The  eyes  of  old  Polonius 
were  not  more  accommodating  than  were  hers.  And  her 
companion  saw  it,  too. 

"  My  dear  senora,"  he  at  length  said,  pressing  her  hand 
still  more  warmly  to  his  bosom,  '•  I  am  sorree  I  came  here," 

"  Sorry,  prince  ?  " 

"  Alas  !     I  fear  I  have  offended  you." 

"  Offended  ?  You  are  cruel,  prince,  to  say  so.  You 
know  you  could  not  offend  me." 

" Could  not?" 

"  You  could  not.  My  deep  1 — lo — respect  would  resist 
all  offence." 

"  Ah,  but  if  I  were  to  tell  all  the  love  wheech  you  'ave 
inspired  in  me  you  would  spurn  me  from  you." 

"  Never !  " 

"  Ncvare  ? " 


THE  PRINCE—LOST!  LOST!  191 

"  No.     Never." 

"  Ah,  you  know  not  what  I  would  ask." 

Julia  trembled,  but  she  did  not  speak. 

"  Ah,  you  cannot  dream  what  I  would  ask." 

And  still  the  poor  fool  trembled  without  speaking.  Her 
head  was  bowed,  and  she  would  have  looked  very  pale  but 
for  the  paint.  She  felt  a  kiss  upon  her  hand — she  felt  an 
arm  about  her  waist — she  felt  herself  drawn  closely  upon 
his  bosom — and  yet  there  was  not  one  spark  of  indignation 
in  her  soul — not  one  !  She  did  not  even  resist ! 

"  Ah,  delight  of  me  eyes  ! — angel  of  me  soul — sweet 
presence  of  purity  and  peace  ! — if  me  own  noble  parlese  on 
the  Arno  could  but  'ave  sooch  ar  meestrese  !  Oh,  what 
blees  !  You  are  offended." 

"  Wicked  man  !  " 

"  There — I  knew.     Oh,  you  are  angeree  now." 

"  No,  I  am  not  angry,"  the  idiot  answered,  in  a  tremu- 
lous whisper.  "  I  am  not  angry,  prince." 

"  Then,  why  am  I  weekeed  ?  " 

"  Ah,  you  bend  my  heart  as  you  will.  Be  generous, 
prince.  Oh,  do  not  kill  me !  Do  not  break  my  heart 
now ! " 

What  more  did  that  man  need  then  ?  Nothing.  The  rod 
was  heated,  and  he  could  fashion  it  when  he  pleased. 

"  Best  beloved  !  "  he  cried,  kissing  her  hand  a  dozen 
times  in  quick  succession,  "  you  have  made  me  the  happiest 
of  men.  But  do  not — oh,  do  not  turn  upon  me  now  and 
crush  me  ?  Be  kind — be  generous.  Break  not  me  'art  now. 
Promise — oh,  promise  that  you  will  not  !  " 

"  I  would  rather  break  my  own,"  she  murmured. 

At  this  moment  the  front  door  was  heard  to  open,  and 
some  one  entered. 

"  It's  my  husband,"  said  the  hostess. 

"  What !  "  gasped  the  prince,  dropping  the  hand  he  held, 
and  leaping  to  a  distant  chair. 

"  Be  not  alarmed,"  said  madam.  "  He  seldom  comes  in 
here  when  I  have  company." 

Yet  the  prince  was  uneasy.  He  seemed  anxious  and 
nervous,  and  every  step  of  the  man  in  the  hall  appeared  to 
fall  upon  his  ear  with  the  same  effect  that  the  coming  of  a 
sheriff  or  constable  has  upon  the  fugitive  thief. 

"  Hark  !  "  uttered  the  hostess,  as  the  sound  of  voices, 


192  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

low  and  tremulous,  fell  upon  her  ear.  "  He  has  brought 
some  one  home  with  him.  It  is  a  female  voice." 

"  Ha,"  added  de  Tavora  ;  "  a  female,  did  you  say  ?  Your 
husband  bringing  females  into  his  house  at  this  time  of 
night  ?  " 

"  Ah — I  think  I  know.  He  told  me  he  had  engaged  a 
poor  woman  to  come  and  do  some  sewing." 

"  And  do  gentlemen  of  Senor  Teevarton's  position  wait 
upon  poor  sewing-women  to  their  houses  ?  " 

Julia  Tiverton's  eyes  flashed  fire.  She  remembered  her 
husband  had  seemed  to  take  a  great  interest  in  the  poor 
woman — poor  widow,  he  had  called  her — and  young,  and 
unfortunate,  too. 

"  But  nevare  mind,"  whispered  the  prince,  resuming  his 
seat  by  the  lady's  side,  as  the  footsteps  were  heard  de- 
scending the  dining-room  stairs.  u  Nevare  mind,  me  own 
sweet  love.  Why  should  you  make  yourself  unhappee  for 
one  who  loves  you  not  at  all  ?  Oh,  tell  me  when  I  may 
come  again.  Tell  me  when  we  may  once  more  mingle  our 
joys,  and  pour  out  our  'arts.  Oh,  let  it  not  be  long  !  " 

"  Come  when  you  please,"  returned  the  lady. 

"  I  shall  go  nowhere  else.     I  wish  to  see  no  one  else." 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  the  count  Adolphus,  who  had  ap- 
proached and  overheard  the  last  remark.  "  Not  go  any- 
where else  ? " 

"  I  shall  not !  "  replied  the  prince,  emphatically. 

"  But  you  must,  your  highness,"  pleaded  Adolphus,  with 
much  apparent  concern.  "  Oh,  what  will  the  Honorable 
Mr.  Slymum  and  the  Honorable  Mr.  Wiretug  say?  and 
what  shall  I  tell  the  ladies  of  Governor  Humfudge  when 
they  ask  for  you  ?  " 

"  Tell  them  what  you  please,"  returned  the  prince,  re- 
signedly. 

"  But,  your  highness,  it  will  not  answer.  There  are  the 
Honorable  Mr.  Onfence  and  his  beautiful  daughters.  I 
told  dem  dat  you  would  certainly  pe  dere,"  cried  the  count, 
just  remembering  that  he  was  a  German.  "  My  cootnesh, 
I  will  pe  turned  out  of  dorsh  if  you  shtay  away.  Coom, 
don't  say  so." 

"  Me  Lord  of  Gusterhausen,"  replied  the  prince  with  im- 
mense dignity,  but  softening  down  to  tones  of  childish 
sweetness  as  he  proceeded,  "  I've  found  the  sun  of  my  ex- 


THE  PRINCE— LOST!  LOST!  193 

istence — the  moon  of  my  long,  dark  night  of  cheerless  life 
— the  polar  star  of  my  future  course.  I  am  content.  Ask 
me  no  more." 

"  Oh,  your  most  noble  highness,  you  have  no  right  to  do 
so.  Only  tink  vat  I  musht  say  ven  dey  asks  me  vere  you 
ish.  And  have  you  forgotten  dot  you  let  me  make  arrange- 
ments for  you  to  visit  General  Keyenn  ?  " 

"  I've  not  forgotten,  count/' 

"  Den  you  moosht  go.  My  cootnesh,  I  should  never  dare 
to  show  mine  fashe  at  Senator  Knockemdown's  again  if  I 
went  mitout  you.  And  then  you  shoost  bromised  me  dat 
you  would  go  mit  me  to  see  Congressman  Shooter.  Oh, 
you  musht  go." 

•'It's  no  use,  my  lord,"  the  prince  persisted  ;  "  I  will 
go  with  you  to  see  de  shentlemens,  but  not  to  see  de 
womens." 

"  But  it's  de  voomens  dat  vants  you  mosht,  your  high- 
ness. Colonel  Wantstobe  and  his  wife,  and  his  peautiful 
daughters,  are  half  crazy  to  see  you." 

"  Me  Lord  of  Gusterhausen,"  pronounced  his  highness 
de  Tavora  in  a  tone  and  manner  which  would  certainly 
seem  to  preclude  the  necessity  of  any  further  remark  on 
the  subject,  "  you  have  me  answer.  I  veel  go  weeth 
you  and  see  te  honorabel  shentlemens,  but  I  veel  not  go 
to  se  te  weemens  !  There  is  but  one  woman  for  me  ! — but 
one  'art  in  me  bosom !  Me  mind  is  made  up  ! — Senora 

de  Tavo ah,  pardong, — I  mean  Senora  Tievarton — your 

hand.  There  :  upon  this  beauteeful  hand  I  swear  that  no 
eyes  shall  beam  upon  me— no  angel  bless  me  weeth 
her  presence,  save  the  fond  one  who  has  me  'art.  Deo 
volente!" 

Thus  speaking,  and  thus  holding  Julia  Tiverton  by  the 
hand,  he  gazed  into  her  face  ;  and  he  saw  that  she  was  very 
proud  and  very  triumphant,  and  very  happy.  He  raised 
the  imprisoned  hand  to  his  lips,  and  having  imprinted  a 
kiss  upon  it,  he  turned  towards  the  door. 

"  Madam,"  said  the  count,  taking  the  hand  of  the  hos- 
tess in  turn,  "  you  have  turned  the  poor  prince's  heart.  I 
fear  me  dis  visit  musht  end  only  in  misery  for  him.  I  wish 
I  did  not  pring  him." 

"  Hush,"  whispered  the  lady,  who  saw  that  her  daughter 
was  approaching  them,  "  say  no  more," 


194  ORION,    THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

In  a  few  moments  more  the  two  nobles  took  their  leave, 
and  the  mother  and  daughter  were  left  alone  ;  but  it  was 
some  time  before  either  dared  to  gaze  into  the  other's  face. 
But  Isabella  was  the  first  to  speak  : 

"Well,  ma,  what  kind  of  a  man  is  the  prince  ?" 

"  Oh,  he  is  a  very  fair  sort  of  a  man,"  answered  the 
mother,  having  now  succeeded  in  hiding  her  real  emotions  ; 
"a  very  fine  man — very  fine." 

"  He  looks  like  a  perfect  gentleman." 

"  So  he  is,  Isabella.  But  what  did  the  count  have  to  say 
this  evening  ? " 

"  Oh,  he's  set  the  time  for  our  marriage,  ma.  It's  all 
settled." 

"  When  ?   when  ?  "  uttered  the  mother. 

"  Well,  we  haven't  exactly  set  the  time  to  a  day  ;  but 
then  it's  to  be  this  summer  ;  and  perhaps  very  soon." 

After  this  Isabella  asked  many  questions  about  what  the 
prince  had  said,  but  her  mother  professed  not  to  have  re- 
membered. She  said  he  had  told  her  about  his  palace  on 
the  Arno,  and  so  on,  but  she  could  not  tell  much  else. 

Ah,  Julia  Tiverton,  it  is  a  thorny  pillow  thou  art  making 
now !  No  more  shall  sleep  to  thee  be  sweet — no  more  shall 
peace  be  within  thy  soul  !  No  more  !  no  more  ! 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

A    WOLF    IN    THE    WORN    ONE'S    RETREAT. 

ON  the  morning  following  the  visit  of  the  prince  and  the 
count,  Mrs.  Tiverton  received  word  from  her  husband 
that  he  wished  to  see  her  in  his  library.  It  was  nearly 
eleven  o'clock,  and  the  lady  had  just  drunk  a  cup  of 
strong  coffee,  which  constituted  her  breakfast.  As  soon  as 
her  maid  had  arranged  her  morning  toilet  she  went  down 
to  answer  her  husband's  call.  She  found  him  seated  at  his 
desk,  where  he  had  been  writing,  and  at  a  short  distance, 
upon  his  damask  lounge,  were  seated  a  female  and  a  little 
girl.  She  gazed  sharply  into  the  female's  face,  as  though 
she  would  read  all  her  thoughts  and  feelings  and  character, 
in  the  look.  She  found  that  face  very  pale  and  very  beau- 


A    WOLF  IN    THE    WORN  ONE'S  RETREAT.         195 

tiful,  and  she  did  not  like  it  because  it  bore  so  plainly  the 
stamp  of  modest  virtue.  She  had  come  to  regard  every 
face  of  that  cast  as  a  living  rebuke  to  her,  and  she  hated 
them.  But  in  the  present  instance  there  was  a  darker 
thought  in  her  mind.  She  wondered  if  her  husband  had 
not  brought  that  woman  to  his  home  because  of  that  beauty! 

Next  she  turned  her  gaze  upon  the  child.  Ah  !  she 
could  not  forget  that  strange  little  face.  She  had  just 
started  with  a  wild  thrill  of  indignation  when  her  husband 
spoke. 

"  Julia,  "  he  said,  in  a  mild  tone,  "  this  is  the  woman  I 
spoke  to  you  about.  She  is  a  worthy  person,  and  an  excel- 
lent seamstress." 

"  What  know  you  of  her  worthiness  ?  "  asked  the  wife  in 
a  low,  hushed  tone. 

There  was  a  sort  of  breathless,  grating  character  to  this 
utterance  which  fairly  startled  the  husband.  He  could  not 
have  explained  it ;  he  could  not  have  told  wherein  that  tone 
differed  from  many  others  she  often  assumed.  But  there 
was  a  difference,  and  a  startling  one,  too.  It  was  like  the 
dread  calm  that  comes  before  the  fatal  simoon — like  the 
sulphuric  stillness  that  precedes  the  earthquake.  Nor  was 
this  all.  As  he  gazed  into  her  face  he  found  a  look  there 
such  as  he  had  never  seen  before.  She  had  not  yet  put  any 
paint  upon  her  cheeks,  and  the  expression  was  plain  and 
unmistakable — it  was  an  expression  that  startled  him  more 
than  her  words  had  done. 

"  I  have  heard  the  story  of  her  life  from  one  who  knows 
her  well  ;  and  I  assure  you  she  is  worthy,"  replied  the 
merchant. 

"You  have  brought  her  up  from  the  Five  Points?"  the 
wife  spoke,  in  that  same  frightful  tone,  and  with  the  ex- 
pression of  her  face  yet  unchanged. 

"  Her  friend  brought  her  up  from  there,  Julia." 

"Friend ' !     And  has  she  another  friend  ?  " 

Mr.  Tiverton  began  to  tremble  beneath  the  influence  of 
that  tone  and  look,  for  it  was  painful.  Yet  he  betrayed  no 
unwonted  emotion. 

"  She  has — a  true,  generous  friend.  The  same  who 
saved  Ellen's  life." 

"  Yes  ! — Well !  "  whispered  the  woman,  patting  her  foot 
upon  the  soft  carpet,  and  clutching  her  hands  together 


196  ORION,    THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

until  the  blood  seemed  all  forced  into  the  fingers.  "  You 
might  have  taken  her  somewhere  else,  sir  !  This  house — 
the  house  of  your  wife — is  not  the  place  for  her !  " 

"  Julia  !  " 

"  You  appear  to  understand  me,  sir  !  " 

"  Julia  Tiverton  !  "  exclaimed  the  husband,  quivering  at 
every  joint,  "  I  hope  I  do  not  understand  you  !  " 

"  But  you  shall,  sir  !  You  shall  understand  me  !  Was  it 
not  enough  that  you  should  bring  a — a — base  thing  into  this 
house  at  a  late  hour  of  the  night,  but  that  you  must  now 
call  me  to  stand  with  her  face  to  face  ?  Was  it  not  enough 
that  you  should  prate  to  me  of  her  youth  and  of  her 
beauty,  but  that  you  must  call  your  wife  here  that  you  may 
compare  faces  ?  Do  you  fondly  cherish  the  opinion  that 
you  have  a  character  so  immaculate  that  you  can  wait  upon 
your  wife's  young  and  pretty  sewing-girl  home  at  night  with- 
out suspicion  resting  upon  you  ?  " 

She  had  spoken  just  long  enough  for  her  husband  to 
gain  control  of  his  first  deep  emotion  ;  but  it  had  required 
a  mighty  effort  on  his  part.  His  heart  had  fallen  for  the 
moment  like  a  lump  of  lead,  and  then  bounded  up  again  as 
though  it  would  leap  from  its  narrow  prison  ;  and  even  now 
it  was  beating  as  it  had  never  beat  since  he  was  born.  He 
had  passed  through  many  scenes  of  danger  in  life,  and  he 
had  been  placed  under  circumstances  that  had  sorely  tried 
his  temper,  but  never  before — never,  never — had  he  been 
tried  like  this  !  Yet  he  had  gained  the  mastery  of  his  deep- 
est passion  ere  he  spoke,  though  his  face  was  pale,  and  the 
quality  of  the  tone  belied  its  calmness. 

"  Julia,"  he  said,  "  let  me  explain  to  you — stop  ;  hear 
me." 

His  wife  had  made  a  motion  to  interrupt  him,  but  there 
was  that  in  his  look  and  tone  when  he  bade  her  stop,  that 
she  dared  not  tempt,  fiend  as  she  was. 

"  Not  long  since  Orion  Lindell  saved  this  little  girl  from 
the  hands  of  two  ruffians.  When  he  accompanied  her  to 
her  home,  he  found  her  father  dying  of  consumption,  and 
her  mother  starving.  He  cared  for  them,  and  was  their 
neighbor  and  their  friend.  A  base  wretch — a  huge, 
overgrown  villain,  named  Glicker — had  haunted  the  poor 
mother  with  a  paper  in  which  he  said  there  was  something 
to  her  benefit.  lie  wished  to  force  her  into  marrying  with 


A    WOLF  Itf  THE    WORN  ONE'S  RETREAT.         197 

him.  Without  doubt  he  had  become  possessed  of  a  docu- 
ment which  contained  the  proof  of  some  piece  of  fortune 
belonging  to  her.  He  wished  to  gain  her  for  a  wife  that  he 
might  possess  it.  It  was  from  this  wretch  that  the  youth 
protected  her  while  he  could.  James  Milmer  was  this 
woman's  husband's  name.  He  was  honest,  upright,  and 
industrious.  Sickness  reduced  his  family  to  want.  From 
point  to  point  they  sank  in  poverty — the  poor  husband  dy- 
ing all  the  while — until  they  were  forced  to  find  a  home 
where  Orion  discovered  them.  Soon  the  husband  and 
father  died.  Then  their  young  protector  came  to  me  and 
asked  me  if,  in  the  circle  of  my  acquaintance,  I  knew  of 
one  who  could  give  employment  to  a  good  seamstress.  I 
told  him  that  I  had  heard  my  wife  speak  of  wanting  such 
assistance,  and  finally  I  told  him  he  might  bring  her  to  my 
house. 

"When  I  next  heard  of  her,  Mr.  Lindell  came  to  me  with 
the  intelligence  that  the  poor  woman  had  been  abducted 
by  this  same  villain  of  whom  I  have  spoken.  I  told  him  if 
he  could  find  her  to  bring  her  to  my  house.  Last  evening 
Mr.  Lindell  accompanied  me  to  a  house  which  stands  in  a 
small  court  leading  out  from  Third  Street,  between  Ave- 
nues B  and  C — " 

At  this  point  Mrs.  Tiverton  gave  a  sudden  start,  and  the 
whole  expression  of  her  countenance  changed  as  if  by 
magic.  But  the  husband  appeared  not  to  notice  it. 

— "  I  had  seen  the  person  whom  I  went  there  to  see,  and, 
having  concluded  my  interview,  was  about  to  leave  the 
house,  when  this  poor  woman  came  rushing  into  the  hall, 
dragging  her  child  by  the  hand,  and  crying  for  help.  In  a 
moment  more  the  stout  villain  who  had  haunted  her  rushed 
in  after  her.  He  had  locked  her  up  in  an  adjoining  house, 
and  she  had  managed  to  make  her  escape  from  her  room, 
and  did  so  just  in  season  to  meet  her  persecutor  in  the 
court,  he  having  come  with  a  priest  of  some  sort  for  the 
purpose  of  forcing  her  into  the  marriage  bond  at  once. 
The  door  of  the  house  in  which  we  were  was  partly  open, 
and  she  rushed  in.  Mr.  Lindell  again  saved  her  from  the 
villain's  grasp,  and  then  came  the  question  of  providing  for 
her  further.  I  asked  her  if  she  would  come  to  my  house, 
and  work  for  my  wife  and  daughter,  and  when  I  made  her 
understand  that  it  was  not  charity  that  I  was  bestowing, 


I9&  OK  TON,    THE   GOLD  &EATER. 

she  said  she  would  come.  So  Mr.  Lindell  took  the  child  in 
his  arms — we  walked  up  to  the  Bowery — there  took  a  stage 
for  this  place,  and  finally  arrived  here  safe  and  sound,  when 
I  bade  the  young  man  good  evening,  and  then  entered  the 
house  with  my  charge.  I  saw  by  the  light  in  the  parlor 
that  you  had  company,  so  I  took  the  woman  and  her  child 
down  to  the  kitchen,  and  gave  them  into  the  care  of  the 
cook  and  waiter,  who  promised  to  provide  for  them.  I  then 
left  her,  and  have  now  had  her  sent  up  here  to  meet  you." 

As  the  merchant  ceased  speaking,  Mrs.  Milmer  arose  to 
her  feet,  and,  with  all  the  power  of  self-control  she  could 
command,  she  said  : 

"Noble  sir,  I  will  not  trespass  upon  your  kindness 
farther.  Let  me  go." 

"  Nay,  my  good  woman,  not  yet.  My  wife  will  find  you 
plenty  of  work.  Be  seated,  be  seated  ;  you  have  nothing  to 
fear." 

And  then,  turning  to  the  hostess,  he  continued  : 

"  Now,  Julia,  of  course  you  will  find  work  for  this  woman, 
and  treat  her  kindly." 

The  wife  did  not  reply  at  once.  Her  husband  spoke 
with  such  a  tone  of  assurance  that  she  felt  sure  he  must 
have  learned  something  of  the  secret  she  would  hide  from 
him.  When  he  mentioned  his  visit  to  the  house  on  the 
small  court  of  Third  Street,  she  knew  that  he  had  been  to 
see  Aunt  Rhoda,  and  she  had  watched  his  countenance 
most  narrowly  to  see  if  she  could  not  assure  herself  from 
some  look  she  might  find  there.  She  had  found  nothing 
but  this  calm,  dignified  assurance,  and  she  feared  that  was 
the  result  of  some  information  he  had  gained  from  the  old 
woman.  It  was  a  severe  moment  for  her.  Her  stubborn 
spirit  rebelled  against  the  thought  of  giving  up  ;  but  she 
dared  not  stand  out.  When  she  saw  that  deep,  calm,  iron 
will  so  plainly  fixed  upon  her  husband's  face,  she  could  not 
bring  her  resolution  to  war  openly  against  it.  Yet  there 
was  a  look  of  demoniac  meaning  upon  her  face  as  she  spoke, 
and  one  who  knew  her  well  might  have  known  that  she 
held  deep  treachery  in  her  heart. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  in  a  low,  compromising  tone,  "  if  you 
say  so,  I  suppose  she  must  stop." 

41  And  you  will  find  her  work,  will  you  ? "  asked  the  mer- 
chant, kindly,  but  still  with  that  firm,  meaning  tone. 


A    WOLF  IN   THE    WORN  ONE'S  RETREAT.        199 

lt  If  she  suits  me,"  was  the  laconic  reply. 

"  Very  well.  Of  course  we  do  not  suppose  any  one 
would  retain  services  that  did  not  prove  worthy.  Still  I 
trust  you  will  be  kind  to  your  seamstress,  and  treat  her  as 
you  would  be  treated  if  you  were  in  her  position." 

"  I  think  I  should  have  to  sink  pretty  low — " 

Thus  far  the  wife  had  spoken,  when  she  met  a  look  from 
her  husband  that  caused  her  to  hesitate  ;  and  after  strug- 
gling a  few  moments  with  her  evil  emotions,  she  resumed — 

"  I  suppose  there  is  no  need  of  my  remaining  here  longer. 
Mrs. —  what  is  her  name  ?  " 

"  Milmer — Constance  Milmer." 

"  Ah— well,  Mrs.  Milmer  ca/i  go  to  her  room,  and  I  will 
send  Sarah  to  her  with  such  work  as  I  wish  her  to  do." 

Mr.  Tiverton  simply  nodded  his  head,  and  his  wife  with- 
drew. As  soon  as  she  was  gone,  Constance  Milmer  bowed 
her  head  and  burst  into  tears.  Little  Lizzie  quickly  threw 
her  arms  about  her  neck,  and  asked  her  not  to  cry,  and 
then  began  to  cry  most  bitterly  herself.  The  merchant 
waited  until  the  poor  widow  had  overcome  somewhat  of  her 
grief,  and  then  he  said  : 

"  Be  calm,  my  good  woman.  I  am  sorry  you  have  been 
forced  to  witness  the  scene  which  has  passed,  but  it  cannot 
be  helped  now.  You  can  see  and  understand  as  well  as  I. 
But  let  all  this  pass  ;  forget  it  if  you  can.  Try  to  feel  as 
though  it  had  never  happened.  And  of  one  thing  be 
assured — you  shall  lose  nothing  by  having  come  here. 
Should  anything  more  transpire  to  render  your  stay  here 
unpleasant,  I  will  see  that  you  have  another  home.  In 
short,  while  I  live  you  shall  not  want,  if  I  can  by  any  means 
know  of  your  circumstances.  To  those  who  know  me  I 
seldom  explain  my  motives,  but  to  you,  who  know  but  little 
of  me,  I  will^say,  the  feelings  which  move  me  thus  to 
befriend  you  are  the  same  as  would  move  me  in  behalf  of 
any  child  of  misfortune  ;  and  could  I,  by  even  a  thought, 
entertain  anything  to  your  harm,  I  would  never  again  hold 
up  my  head  in  God's  bright  sunlight." 

"  Oh  !  I  know  you  are  generous  and  good,"  cried  the 
poor  woman  ;  "  I  will  stay  and  try  to  be  happy  here." 

"  I  am  glad  of  that — I  am  glad  of  that.  Now  go  to  the 
same  room  the  girl  showed  you  last  night,  and  feel  at  home 
there.  Do  all  you  can,  consistently  with  your  own  truth 


200  ORION,    THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

and   dignity,   to   please   my  wife,  and   leave  the   rest  to 
time." 

With  this  the  widow  arose  and  left  the  room ;  and  as  soon 
as  Mr.  Tiverton  was  alone,  he  started  to  his  feet  and  com- 
menced to  pace  to  and  fro  across  the  floor.  His  face  was 
sadly  worked  upon,  and  his  whole  frame  quivered  with 
emotion.  At  last  he  stopped,  and  with  his  hands  con- 
vulsively clasped  across  his  breast,  he  uttered  : 

"  Oh,  Julia  !  you  know  not  what  a  heart  you  are  break- 
ing !  Is  there  no  love  in  thy  heart  ?  no  honor  in  thy  soul  ? 
What  have  I  ever  done  that  thou  shouldst  turn  and  sting 
me  to  death  !  Oh  !  would  to  God  the  past  score  of  years 
were  blotted  out  from  my  memory  !  Julia — Julia — once 
you  might  have  healed  a  broken  heart,  and  brought  back  a 
soul  to  joy  and  peace  !  But,  alas  !  thy  power  has  been  all 
for  evil— all— all  !  " 

Big  tears  rolled  down  that  stout  man's  cheeks  as  he  sank 
back  into  his  chair,  and  his  heart  seemed  bursting  with 
grief.  But  he  overcame  the  outer  emotion  at  length,  and 
then  started  for  his  place  of  business.  The  humble  la- 
borer who  stood  over  the  way  saw  the  wealthy  merchant 
as  he  left  his  sumptuous  abode,  and  in  his  heart  he  envied 
the  millionaire.  And  many  others  on  that  day  did  the 
same,  for  Paul  Tiverton  carried  none  of  his  agony  upon  his 
face,  amid  the  busy  throng. 

When  Mrs.  Tiverton  left  her  husband,  she  went  to  the 
drawing-room  on  the  second  floor,  where  she  found  Isabella 
seated  at  play  with  her  little  poodle  dog. 

"  Why,  ma — what  is  the  matter  ?  "  the  daughter  asked, 
as  she  saw  her  mother's  agitated  expression. 

"  Matter  enough,"  returned  Mrs.  T.,  sharply  and  an- 
grily. 

" "  Pa  hasn't  been  saying  anything  about  our  company, 
has  he  ? "  the  girl  uttered,  with  some  show  of  uneasiness. 

"  No — he  knows  better  than  that.  But  he's  brought  a 
poor,  miserable,  Five  Points  beggar  here  to  do  our  sewing. 
She's  one  of  your  prudish,  sanctimonious  things,  with  some 
good  looks,  just  calculated  for  a  bad  woman,  and  has  a 
child  with  her.  He  brought  that  creature  home  with  him 
when  he  came  home  last  night,  and  now  he^says  that  I  must 
employ  her." 

"  But  you  won't,  will  you,  ma  ? " 


A    WOLF  IN  THE    WORN  ONE'S  RETREAT.        201 

«  Mr.  T.  is  determined." 

"  Then  let  us  be  determined  the  other  way.  What  ! 
bring  such  a  woman  here  to  do  our  sewing  ?  What  has  he 
to  do  with  it  ? " 

"  That's  what  I'd  like  to  knew,"  the  mother  returned  ; 
"  I  don't  like  it.  Oh  !  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  the  look 
the  degraded  thing  put  on  when  I  told  your  father  that  I 
wouldn't  have  her  in  the  house." 

"  But  did  pa  insist  upon  her  staying  after  you  had  told 
him  that  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  did." 

"Then  she  must  be  a  senseless  thing  to  wish  to  re- 
main after  hearing  so  much.  But  you  said  she  was  good- 
looking  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  possesses  a  great  deal  of  the  low,  vulgar  beauty 
which  belongs  to  her  class." 

"  Perhaps  she  loves  pa,"  suggested  Isabella,  with  a  mys- 
terious look,  and  at  the  same  time  shaking  her  uncombed 
head  in  a  most  dubious  manner. 

The  mother  started  at  the  remark,  and  the  demon  look 
came  back  to  her  face. 

"  I  have  thought  of  that,  Isabella,"  she  said  in  a  hushed 
tone  ;  "  men  are  not  in  the  habit  of  gallanting  sewing- women 
about  for  nothing  !  " 

"  But  only  think,  ma  ;  did  you  ever  know  pa  to  trouble 
himself  about  anything  of  the  kind  before  ?  " 

"  No — never." 

"Then  it  looks  rather  strange  to  see  him  so  anxious 
about  this  case.  Do  you  suppose  you  could  find  another 
man  on  this  street  who  would  do  such  a  thing  ? " 

"  No  !  "  uttered  the  mother,  with  indignant  emphasis. 

"  Then  of  course  you  wont  give  her  any  work  ? " 

"  I  told  your  father  I  would  send  her  some  by  Sarah." 

"  I'd  send  her  a  halter  first !  "  uttered  Isabella,  with 
much  show  of  temper.  "  Just  as  likely  as  not  she's  to  be 
a  spy  upon  our  movements  !  I  tell  you,  pa  never  would 
have  brought  that  woman  here  just  to  accommodate  you. 
Why,  think  of  it — who  ever  heard  of  such  a  thing  ?  I'll  defy 
anybody  to  produce  an  instance  where  a  wealthy  merchant 
went  out  and  hunted  up  a  sewing-woman  for  his  folks,  and 
then  waited  upon  her  home  at  night  !  And,  I  ask  you, 
does  it  look  like  the  way  pa  generally  treats  us  ? " 


202  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

These  simple  remarks  served  as  "the  last  ounce  upon 
the  camel's  back."  Mrs.  Tiverton  reflected  a  few  moments 
upon  her  daughter's  words,  and  then  she  said  : 

"  You  are  right,  my  child  ;  we  must  get  rid  of  her  in 
some  way.  Oh !  only  to  think  that  my  husband  should 
have  dared  to  bring  that  woman  here ! "  she  continued, 
stamping  madly  upon  the  floor. 

She  was  about  the  point  of  speaking  further,  when  some 
new  idea  seemed  to  enter  her  mind,  for  she  started 
up  from  her  seat,  and  took  several  turns  across  the 
room.  When  she  stopped,  it  was  by  the  bell-pull, 
and  having  given  it  a  nervous  wrench,  she  returned  to 
her  seat.  In  a  few  moments  Sarah  Johnson  made  her 
appearance. 

This  maid  was  a  shrewd,  secretive-looking  girl,  about 
nineteen  years  of  age,  with  a  keen,  cold  gray  eye,  and  a 
hawk-bill  nose.  She  had  been  in  the  service  of  Mrs. 
Tiverton  some  years,  and  had  won  the  entire  confidence  of 
that  lady.  She  knew  many  of  her  mistress's  most  impor- 
tant secrets,  but  she  had  never  been  known  to  betray  one. 
She  entered  with  a  quiet,  unobstrusive  look,  and  waited 
patiently  to  hear  what  was  wanted.  The  confidence 
reposed  in  her  did  not  make  her  bold,  for  she  well  knew 
that  her  present  easy  situation  would  be  quickly  lost  if  she 
assumed  airs.  Yet  she  was  laying  up  a  power  which  the 
fashionable  lady  might  at  some  time  find  rather  danger- 
ous to  her  peace.  And  even  now  Mrs.  Tiverton  would  not 
have  dared  to  turn  the  girl  away  save  in  a  kind  and  com- 
promising way. 

"  Sit  down,  Sarah." 

The  girl  took  a  seat,  and  with  folded  hands  waited  for  fur- 
ther remark. 

"  Do  you  know  a  woman  named  Constance  Milmer  ?"  the 
mistress  asked. 

"  I  know  there  was  such  a  woman  came  here  last  night, 
but  I  have  not  seen  her." 

"  How  did  you  know  ? " 

"  Cook  told  me." 

"  And  did  cook  tell  you  how  she  came  here  ?" 

"  Yes'm.  She  said  master  brought  her  down  last  night, 
and  ordered  her  to  give  her  some  good  supper,  and  then 
show  her  a  bed." 


A    WOLF  IN   THE    WORK  ONE'S  RETREAT.        203 

"  Yes.  And  now,  Sarah,  do  you  know  a  man  by  the  name 
of  Glicker  1" 

"  Glicker  ? "  repeated  the  girl,  gazing  fixedly  into  her 
mistress's  face.  "  Yes'm,  I  know  a  man  named  Duffy 
Glicker." 

"  What  sort  of  a  man  is  he  ? " 

"  Why — he  is  a  great  stout  man,  and — a— well,  some  folks 
say  he  don't  allers  do  things  as  church-members  and  upper 
folks  do  'em." 

"  Yes,  I  understand.  But  do  you  know  where  he 
lives  ? " 

"  Part  of  the  time  he  lives  in  the  same  court  where  my  sis- 
ter lives,  only  in  another  house. " 

"  Do  you  see  him  when  you  go  to  your  sister's  ? " 

"Sometimes." 

"  Then  I  want  to  trust  you  with  a  very  important  piece  of 
work.  I  think  I  may  trust  you,  Sarah." 

"  You  know  you  can,  mem." 

"  Of  course  I  do  ;  and  if  you  do  this  well  you  shan't  be  a 
loser  by  it.  I  wish  you  would  go  this  very  day  and  see 
this  Glicker.  Hunt  him  up  if  you  can." 

"  Oh,  I  can  find  him,  mem.  I  know  a  woman  who  can  tell 
me  where  he  is.  Biddy  Mugget  is  his  housekeeper,  and  she 
allers  knows  where  he  keeps  himself." 

"Then  find  him  ;  and  ask  him  if  he  knows  Constance  Mil- 
mer.  If  he  does,  and  would  like  to  see  her,  tell  him  to 
come  here.  You  can  make  some  arrangement  so  as  to 
have  him  come  without  being  seen.  Have  it  understood 
exactly  it  what  hour  he  will  be  here,  and  you  can  be  ready 
to  receive  him,  and  conduct  him  to  some  place  where  I  can 
see  him.  But  that  we  can  fix  afterwards — after  we  know 
he  is  coming.  Can  you  do  this  ? " 

"Yes'm." 

"  And  you  can  be  careful  ? " 

"  Most  careful,  mem." 

"  Then  you  may  go  at  once.  No — stop.  Yes,  you  may. 
But  see,  you  needn't  have  him  come  here  this  time.  You 
may  only  find  him  out  and  see  if  he  is  the  one  who  wants 
Constance  Milmer.  Find  out  that  much,  and  then  tell  him 
you'll  see  him  again.  Do  you  understand  ? " 

"  Yes'm — perfectly." 

"  Then  go.     But  mind  what  I  have  said.     Only  just  find 


-204  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

out  if  he  is  the  man,  and  have  him  tell  you  where  you'll 
find  him  again." 

Thus  instructed,  the  girl  left  the  room,  and  once  more 
the  mother  and  daughter  were  alone  together.  They 
looked  each  other  in  the  face  without  shame,  and  even 
seemed  to  congratulate  themselves  upon  their  success  thus 
far.  Julia  Tiverton  could  suspect  wrong  in  the  man  of  whom 
she  knew  anything  but  the  most  stern  and  uncompromising 
virtue,  and  she  could  plot  for  the  ruin  of  one  who  had 
never  done  her  harm  !  But  she  did  not  think  of  her  own 
foul,  wicked  infidelity.  She  forgot  that  her  own  heart  was 
black,  and  her  soul  the  home  of  rank  falsehood  !  And  she 
must  have  forgotten,  too,  that  the  way  of  the  transgressor 
is  one  only  of  sorrow  and  suffering  ! 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE    VISION. — PASSING    AWAY. 

WHEN  Sarah  Johnson  returned  from  her  visit  to  the 
house  of  her  sister,  she  brought  word  that  Duffy 
Glicker  was  the  man  who  had  known  Mrs.  Milmer,  but 
that  he  had  gone  out  of  town,  and  might  not  return  for 
some  days.  She  had  left  word  with  her  sister  to  let  her 
know  when  the  man  came  back,  and  also  to  inform  Mr. 
Glicker  that  he  would  hear  of  something  to  his  advantage 
by  waiting  to  see  her.  The  truth  was — Mr.  Glicker  had 
left  for  fear  of  being  apprehended  by  the  police.  How- 
ever, this  was  of  no  consequence  to  Mrs.  Tiverton.  She 
was  very  sorry  that  the  mati  could  not  be  at  once  produced, 
for  she  had  determined  to  get  rid  of  Constance  Milmer 
and  her  child  as  soon  as  possible. 

"What  shall  I  do  now?"  asked  Sarah,  after  she  sup- 
posed her  mistress  had  had  plenty  of  time  for  thought. 

"You  have  done  very  right,"  returned  Mrs.  Tiverton, 
"  and  we  will  wait  awhile  and  see  if  you  do  not  hear  from 
Mr.  Glicker." 

uYes'm,"  the  obedient  maid  uttered,  as  she  turned  to 
leave  the  apartment. 


THE    VISION— PASSING  AWAY.  205 

"What -shall  we  do  with  the  woman  !"  asked  Isabella, 
after  the  girl  had  gone. 

"We  must  wait,"  returned  the  mother,  "I  will  watch  her 
and  bide  my  time.  It  is  best  to  do  nothing  which  can  not 
be  well  done.  Let  her  stay.  We  will  send  her  some  work 
when  we  get  it  ready.  " 

"  When  we  get  it  ready  ! "  repeated  Isabella,  catching 
quickly  at  her  mother's  meaning. 

"Yes,  my  dear — when  we  get  it  ready." 

In  the  mean  time,  Mr.  Tiverton  had  been  to  his  counting- 
house,  and  having  prepared  the  advertisements  as  he  had 
planned,  he  sent  them  to  the  offices  of  three  of  the  daily 
papers.  He  waited  two  days  ere  he  began  to  look  for  an 
answer  ;  but  three,  and  four,  and  five  days  passed — a  week 
— and  two  weeks — and  yet  no  word  from  Daro  Kid.  At 
the  end  of  the  second  week  the  merchant  had  the  same  ad- 
vertisements put  in  again. 

And  during  these  two  weeks  things  had  gone  a  little  dif- 
ferently at  the  merchant's  dwelling  from  what  had  been 
anticipated.  On  the  third  day  of  Constance  Milmer's  stay 
there  Conrad  expressed  a  wish  to  see  both  her  and  her 
child.  His  father  had  told  him  about  her,  and  all  his  sympa- 
thies were  alive  in  her  behalf.  The  poor  widow  entered 
the  sick  boy's  chamber  with  a  noiseless  tread,  but  yet  his 
quick,  sensitive  ear  caught  the  presence.  He  turned  his 
head,  and  when  the  visitor  had  reached  his  bedside  he 
gazed  upon  her  a  long  while  in  silence.  His  gaze  was 
eager  and  intense,  and  his  face  was  moved  by  some  strange 
emotion. 

"  Kiss  me,  "  he  whispered. 

Constance  started  at  the  sound  of  that  whisper.  Oh, 
how  well  she  knew  its  import !  So  hollow — so  deep — so 
painful — coming  as  from  a  wide  cavern  where  all  of  life 
was  gone  !  It  was  the  presence  of  Death  that  caused  her 
to  start,  for  she  painfully  remembered  how  he  who  had  gone 
to  the  upper  home  before  her  used  to  whisper  like  that.  But 
she  tried  to  conceal  her  emotion  from  the  boy,  and  to  that 
end  she  bent  down  and  kissed  him  at  once  :  and  when  she 
raised  her  head  a  tear  was  trickling  down  her  cheek.  Con- 
rad saw  it,  and  from  that  moment  there  was  a  strange, 
mystic  bond  reaching  forth  from  his  soul  and  encircling 
that  woman  within  its  fold  of  love.  After  .this  he  had  little 


206  ORION,    THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

Lizzie  placed  by  his  side,  and  as  he  met  her  sweet,  inno- 
cent smile,  he  clasped  his  thin,  wasted  arm  about  her  and 
asked  her  if  she  would  not  be  his  little  sister. 

"  If  I  could  make  you  happy  I  should  love  to  be  your 
sister,"  returned  the  child,  promptly. 

"  And  do  you  think  you  could  make  me  unhappy  ? " 
asked  Conrad. 

"  I  should  hope  not.  Oh  ! "  the  child  added,  with  a 
shudder,  "  I  should  be  very  miserable  if  I  thought  I  could 
make  anybody  unhappy." 

Ere  long  the  widow  sat  down  by  the  side  of  the  bed,  and 
with  a  sort  of  instinct,  resulting  from  her  long  attendance 
upon  her  husband,  she  took  one  of  the  boy's  hands  between 
both  her  own,  and  began  to  chafe  it  gently  and  carefully. 
The  hand  felt  chilly  and  dry  at  first,  but  gradually  the 
woman  wrought  a  faint  glow  upon  it,  and  gave  it  warmth 
and  life.  And  then  she  took  the  other  one  and  did  the 
same.  Meanwhile  Conrad  talked  with  Lizzie  cheerfully 
and  happily,  and  finally  he  told  her  that  she  must  be  his 
little  girl  now. 

"  Mrs.  Milmer,"  said  the  boy,  after  she  and  his  father 
had  finished  a  short  conversation  on  the  subject  of  a  partic- 
ular kind  of  medicine,  "  my  father  has  told  me  all  about  you, 
and  I  wanted  to  see  you.  I  don't  know  why  it  is,  but  since 
I  have  been  so  sick  I  love  to  see  people  who  have  been  un- 
fortunate, and  who  have  borne  their  misfortunes  meekly. 
Somehow  the  presence  of  those  who  come  stoutly  and 
strong  from  the  great  battle  of  life  jars  upon  my  feelings, 
for  they  have  no  sympathy,  and  seem  uneasy  and  out  of 
place  in  this  chamber.  And  those  who  come  from  misfor- 
tune with  sorrow  and  sufferings  are  worse  still.  These  lat- 
ter only  moan,  and  groan,  and  seem  to  think  it  is  all 
very  wrong  that  one  like  me  should  be  dying.  They 
don't  know  anything  about  that  inner  life  which  grows 
stronger  as  this  poor  house  of  clay  crumbles  and 
wastes  away.  You  lost  your  husband.  Was  he  very  sorry 
to  die?" 

"  Not  for  himself,  oh  no  !  He  was  happy,  and  spoke 
cheerfully  of  passing  away  from  earth." 

"  That  is  the  way  I  feel." 

The  boy  went  on  and  conversed  a  while  longer  in  the 
same  strain  ;  but  the  effect  was  beginning  to  make  him 


THE    VISION— PASSING  AWAY.  207 

weak,  and  his  father  asked  him  if  he  hadn't  better  be  left 
alone. 

"  Perhaps  I  oughtn't  to  talk  any  more,"  he  said,  "  but  I 
don't  like  to  to  be  left  alone." 

As  Mr.  Tiverton  heard  this  a  new  thought  entered  his 
mind.  Thus  far  Conrad's  only  nursing  had  been  done  by 
the  servants,  they  taking  turns  in  waiting  upon  him  when 
his  father  was  not  with  him.  His  sister  occasionally  sat 
with  him  a  few  minutes  at  a  time  ;  and  his  mother  some- 
times called  in;  but  it  made  them  "so  nervous,"  that 
they  could  not  bear  it  often  with  safety  to  their  own  con- 
stitutions. 

"  My  boy,"  the  merchant  said,  "  how  would  you  like  to 
have  Mrs.  Milmer  stay  with  you  to  take  care  of  you  all 
the  time  ?  She  knows  all  about  your  sickness,  for  she 
nursed  her  husband  for  many  months." 

"  Oh,  I  should  like  it  very  much,"  the  boy  quickly 
answered. 

"  And  how  would  you  like  it  ? "  Mr.  Tiverton  continued, 
to  the  widow. 

"  If  I  thought  I  could  do  anything  to  make  your  son 
comfortable  I  should  be  happy,  sir." 

"  Then  it  is  fixed.  You  may  give  up  all  other  work, 
and  devote  your  time  to  my  boy.  Sometimes  he  may  want 
you  to  read  to  him,  and  sometimes  he  may  want  comfort 
and  consolation.  I  feel  that  I  may  trust  him  safely  in 
your  hands." 

Conrad  shed  tears  of  joy  at  this,  and  he  now  confessed 
what  he  would  never  hint  at  before.  That  he  had  been 
sometimes  very  lonesome  and  unhappy  when  he  had  been 
left  all  alone  so  long. 

"  It  shall  be  so  no  more,"  the  father  said,  with  much 
feeling.  "  It  shall  be  so  no  more,  my  son.  When  your 
mother  comes,  you  can  tell  her  how  glad  you  are  that  you 
have  so  good  a  nurse." 

The  sick  boy  cast  his  eyes  upon  the  poor  widow  as  his 
father  thus  spoke,  and  in  a  moment  he  read  the  whole 
meaning  of  those  words.  His  perceptions  were  keen  and 
quick,  and  he  knew  his  mother  well  enough  to  know  all. 
His  answer  was  quiet  and  ready  : 

u  I  will  tell  her  this  is  my  nurse." 

And  so  Constance  Milmer  was  duly  installed  into  the 


2o8  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

important  office.  It  was  not  until  the  following  day  that 
Mrs.  Tiverton  come  to  see  her  son.  She  was  startled  upon 
find  the  widow  at  his  bedside,  and  for  a  moment  she  was 
wholly  unable  to  speak. 

•'  What  is  all  this  ?  "  she  at  length  uttered,  in  a  tone  far 
from  being  pleasant,  and  casting  a  look  of  intense  hatred 
upon  the  nurse. 

"  Mother,"  the  boy  at  once  said,  with  a  happy  smile  upon 
his  pale  face,  and  in  a  joyous  tone,  "  this  good  woman  is 
going  to  stay  with  me  all  the  time,  and  take  care  of  me.  I 
asked  her  to  be  my  nurse,  and  she  said  she  would.  Your 
poor  boy  will  have  some  one  to  wait  upon  him  now,  and 
you  will  be  happier  to  know  that  he  is  not  suffering,  won't 
you  ? " 

Mrs.  Tiverton  did  not  answer  immediately.  This  was 
something  unexpected.  She  did  love  her  boy — she  loved 
him  as  well  as  she  could  love  anything  that  did  not  directly 
minister  to  her  physical  happiness — and  she  would  not  do 
a  thing  at  giving  him  pain.  She  knew  that  she  neglected 
him,  and  that  she  had  never  performed  a  true  mother's 
duty  towards  him  ;  and  as  these  thoughts  came  flitting 
through  her  mind  she  did  what  she  had  not  done  for  a 
long,  long  time.  She  curbed  her  anger,  and  hid  her  real 
feelings. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you  happy,  my  son,"  she  at  length 
said,  approaching  his  bedside  and  placing  her  dry,  cold 
hand  upon  his  brow. 

The  boy  shuddered  as  he  felt  that  touch,  and  saw  the 
lines  that  were  drawn  across  his  mother's  face.  He  knew 
that  she  was  not  happy — that  she  was  not  wojl.  He  saw 
that  the  hand  of  disease  was  upon  her,  and  that  she  was 
gradually  and  surely  riving  away  her  heart. 

The  interview  was  not  a  long  one.  The  parent  felt  ner- 
vous and  uneasy,  and  the  child  felt  unhappy.  He  looked 
in  vain  for  one  warm,  kind  gleam  upon  his  mother's  cold 
face,  and  in  vain  did  he  listen  for  one  fond,  loving  tone 
from  her  lips.  She  came  because  she  felt  it  a  duty, 
and  she  refrained  from  showing  the  anger  that  was  in 
her,  because  she  was  not  yet  able  to  bear  the  memory 
of  having  really,  or  directly,  done  an  injury  to  the 
sufferer. 

When  Julia    Tiverton   reached    her    own  chamber  she 


THE    VISION— PASSING  AWAY.  209 

threw  herself  into  an  easy-chair,  and  clenched  her  hands 
until  the  nails  sank  deeply  into  the  palms. 

"  And  has  it  come  to  this  ?  "  she  gasped.  "  That  hated 
woman  his  nurse  !  And  he  so  happy  in  her  care  and  com- 
panionship !  Oh,  my  husband  has  done  this  so  as  to 
make  sure  of  her  remaining  here  !  He  would  be  happy  in 
her  companionship,  too.  Now  I  see  why  he  spends  so  much 
time  with  Conrad  !  " 

Thus  it  ever  it  is  with  such  a  mind.  She  knew  very  well 
— or,  she  would  have  known,  had  she  thought — that  since 
Mrs.  Milmer  had  been  there  her  husband  had  not  spent 
one-third  as  much  time  with  his  son  as  before.  And  what 
was  her  cause  of  hatred  towards  that  poor  woman  ?  She 
could  not  have  told  had  she  tried.  She  might  have  said 
that  her  husband  loved  her  ;  but  she  would  have  spoken  the 
word  knowing  that  she  spoke  falsehood.  Yet  she  did  speak 
this,  and  she  allowed  the  thought — not  belief — to  influence 
her  feelings.  However,  it  was  enough  for  her  that  she  had 
at  first  wished  to  be  rid  of  the  woman,  and  could  not. 
That  was  sufficient  to  arouse  the  bitterness  of  her  evil 
nature. 

But  time  passed  on,  and  while  the  mother  was  very 
angry  and  unhappy,  the  son  was  calm  and  joyful.  He  had 
learned  to  love  his  gentle,  faithful  nurse,  and  almost  to 
idolize  the  bright-eyed  little  Lizzie.  With  a  zeal  and 
watchfulness  utterly  untiring  did  Constance  watch  by  the 
bed  of  the  fading  youth,  and  her  face  wore  only  the  sweet- 
est smiles  as  she  listened  to  his  wants  and  ministered  to 
them.  And  the  more  the  boy  loved  his  faithful  friend  the 
more  intensely  did  his  mother  hate  her.  She  had  never 
cared  for  that  sick  boy,  save  as  the  fear  of  censure  had 
swayed  her — she  had  never  devoted  one  moment  to  his 
comfort  during  the  long,  long  hours  of  suffering — she  had 
never  spoken  one  word  of  cheer  and  hope  ; — and  now  that 
another  had  been  found,  who  unobtrusively,  mildly,  and 
kindly,  did  the  work,  her  jealous  heart  took  fire,  and  hate 
ruled  all  her  thoughts  of  the  poor,  untiring  watcher. 

Conrad  saw  it,  but  he  said  not  a  word.  Constance  saw 
it,  and  she  only  prayed  that  the  proud  woman  might  at 
some  time  know  her  better,  and  cease  to  hate,  if  she  could 
not  love. 

One  day,  when  Paul  Tiverton  came  up  to  his  son's  room, 


210  ORION,    THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

he  found  the  patient  more  feeble  than  usual,  and  far  more 
melancholy. 

"  Father,"  he  said,  "  come  here  and  sit  down  by  my 
side." 

There  was  a  sadness  in  his  tone,  and  yet  it  was  marked 
by  a  sort  of  calm,  joyous  hope  that  made  it  sound  strangely. 
The  sadness  seemed  to  belong  alone  to  the  outer  form— the 
joy  to  the  spirit  within. 

"  What  is  it,  my  son  ?  "  the  father  asked,  as  he  sat  down 
and  took  one  of  the  faded  hands  in  his  own. 
"  I  will  tell  you.     Listen." 

As  the  boy  thus  spoke  his  dark  hazel  eye  grew  bright 
with  a  supernatural  lustre,  and  a  sort  of  halo  seemed  to 
dwell  about  his  face,  relieving  its  pallor,  and  giving  it  a 
happier  cast. 

"  Last  night,"  he  said,  in  a  simple,  narrative-like  form, 
"  as  I  lay  here  awake,  I  heard  soft  gentle  music  floating 
about  me.  I  tnrned  to  see  if  my  nurse  was  playing  upon 
any  instrument,  for  I  have  heard  from  a  very  sweet,  tuneful 
harmonion  a  combination  of  tunes  something  like  what  I 
then  heard.  But  my  nurse  was  sound  asleep.  I  would 
have  spoken  to  her,  but  I  had  an  instinctive  fear  that  the 
music  would  cease  if  I  broke  in  upon  it.  When  I  first 
heard  it,  it  seemed  to  be  at  some  little  distance,  but  now  it 
had  come  nearer,  and  appeared  to  be  all  about  me.  It  was 
not  confined  to  any  locality,  but  rather  floated  in  the  air,  a 
soft  succession  of  the  sweetest  sounds  I  ever  heard.  My 
breath  was  suspended,  and  my  whole  vital  action  stopped. 
My  soul  seemed  so  full  with  the  sounds  I  heard,  that  only 
one  sense  of  celestial  joy  pervaded  my  system.  Again  I 
turned  towards  my  nurse,  but  she  slept  on.  Then  for  the 
first  time,  came  the  thought  that  I,  too,  might  be  asleep, 
and  only  dreaming  all  this.  I  raised  myself  upon  my  el- 
bow and  gazed  about  me.  I  was  in  my  own  room — just  as 
I  am  now — and  all  was  proper  about  me  ;  so  I  knew  I 
must  be  awake." 

"  The  music  continued,  floating  softly,  sweetly  about  me, 
in  pure  angelic  strains,  and  and  ever  anon  I  fancied  1  heard 
the  rustling  of  some  fine  gauze-like  drapery  about  me.  By 
and  by  the  whole  room  seemed  to  be  filled  with  the  music. 
My  soul  was  light  as  air,  and  swayed  to  and  fro  beneath  the 
wondrous  influence.  My  heart  did  not  beat — as  I  said  be- 


THE    VISION— PA  SSING  AWAY.  2 1 1 

fore,  not  a  material  thing  of  my  earthly  self  moved-only 
the  inner  being,  the  essence  of  life,  was  conscious  to  sur- 
rounding things.  Again  I  thought  to  awaken  my  nurse, 
but  when  I  made  the  effort  I  found  that  my  body  would  not 
move  with  my  will.  There  was  a  sensible  movement  of 
something  which  seemed  to  have  taken  the  place  of  this 
earthly  head,  but  I  could  feel  that  the  material  frame  re- 
mained all  rigid  and  immovable.  By  and  by  the  music 
began  to  assume  a  different  air.  It  became  sweeter  and 
softer  still,  and  I  felt  a  light,  grateful  fanning  upon  my  cheek 
and  brow.  Gradually  the  light  of  the  gas-burner,  which 
had  been  turned  down  to  a  small  jet,  flickered  and  disap- 
peared, and  at  the  same  time  a  warm  genial  glow  began  to 
pervade  the  room.  It  came  from  no  particular  quarter, 
but  arose  upon  all  hands  like  a  halo.  While  I  strained  my 
eyes  to  see  if  I  could  find  any  located  source  of  this  light 
there  appeared  to  me  forms  growing  out  from  the  efful- 
gence. They  were  dim  and  shadowy  at  first,  but  gradu- 
ally they  assumed  perfect  shapes,  and  I  found  them  angelic 
presences  smiling  upon  me.  They  were  clothed  in  what 
appeared  to  me  robes  of  light.  At  first  these  garments 
might  have  been  taken  for  fabrics  of  burnished  metal,  but 
when  I  gazed  more  intently  I  found  them  only  floating 
draperies  of  pure  light.  There  were  many  of  these  spirit 
presences — I  could  not  count  them,  for  they  floated  about 
in  circles — and  then  so  fascinated  was  I  by  their  smiles  and 
joyful  movements  that  I  could  not  fix  my  mind  upon  mere 
numbers. 

"  At  length  one  presence,  more  bright  and  lovely  to  me 
than  all  the  rest,  advanced  from  among  his  companions 
and  floated  above  my  bed.  He  seemed  as  one  with  whom 
I  had  been  long  familiar,  yet  I  knew  him  not.  His  face 
was  beautiful — all  light  and  brilliant,  as  though  it  reflected 
the  beams  from  ten  thousand  lamps — and  one  of  the  most 
heavenly  smiles  was  upon  his  lips  that  I  ever  conceived  of. 
I  saw  in  his  hand  a  crown — made  like  a  wreath — and  it  was 
nothing  but  thorns.  The  stout  vine  was  twisted  and  woven 
together,  and  the  long,  sharp  thorns  projected  like  things 
of  torture.  The  presence  let  this  crown  of  thorns  drop 
from  its  hand,  but  instead  of  falling  it  floated  directly  over 
my  head,  and  I  shuddered  as  I  saw  it  there,  for  I  feared 
'twould  hurt  me  if  it  fell  upon  me.  But  while  I  watched  it 


212  ORION,    THE   GOLD  BEARER. 

those  thorns  became  buds — the  buds  blossomed — and 
finally,  where  I  had  seen  the  sharp  points  of  torture 
were  only  the  most  beautiful  flowers.  At  that  moment — 
just  as  this  transformation  was  complete — I  heard  a  voice 
— a  low,  sweet,  musical  voice — and  it  said, — '  Come,  Con- 
rad, and  abide  with  us.'  I  looked  towards  the  point  from 
whence  the  voice  had  proceeded,  but  could  see  nothing 
save  that  the  bright  effulgence  was  departing.  I  looked  to 
where  the  crown  of  roses  had  been  and  that  was  gone,  I 
closed  my  eyes  a  moment,  and  when  I  opened  them  again 
the  whole  mystic  scene  had  disappeared.  The  gas  burned 
as  before,  and  the  nurse  was  just  awakening  from  her 
sleep. 

"  When  she  had  fully  aroused  herself  she  asked  me  if  I 
had  been  singing.  I  told  her  no  ;  and  asked  her  why  she 
put  the  question.  She  told  me  she  had  heard  the  sweetest 
music,  while  she  was  dozing  in  her  chair,  that  she  ever 
heard  in  her  life.  She  had  slept,  but  I  had  not.  During 
all  that  scene  I  was  as  fully  awake  as  I  am  now."  * 

The  father  had  listened  with  rapt  interest  to  the  story  of 
this  strange  vision,  and  he  remained  for  some  moments 
silent  after  his  son  had  done  speaking. 

"  It  is  true,  sir,"  said  Constance.  "  I  heard  the  music 
very  plainly ;  and  I  thought  I  was  dreaming  ;  and  I 
remember  that  I  tried  not  to  wake  up  for  fear  it  would  all 
go  away." 

"  It  is  very  strange,"  said  the  merchant. 

"  Oh,  no  ! — not  strange,"  cried  Conrad.  "  It  was  very 
beautiful,  and  has  imparted  to  my  soul  a  blessed  joy  and 
peace.  But  I  sent  for  you  for  two  purposes  :  one,  to  tell 
you  this  ;  and  the  other,  to  have  you  see  Nelly  and  bring 
her  home  if  she  can  come.  Oh  !  I  want  to  see  her  very 
much,  and  if  she  comes  not  soon  we  shall  not  meet  on 
earth.  Do  you  think  she  could  come  and  see  me  now  ? 
Would  it  hurt  her  much  ?  " 

"  But  you  are  not  going  to  leave  us  yet,  my  child,"  the 
father  murmured,  pressing  the  thin,  cold  hand  to  his  lips. 

*  We  give  this  as  taken  from  the  lips  of  a  boy  who  had  been  long  sick, 
but  whose  mind  was  clearer  and  more  active  than  when  in  health.  His 
solemn  assurance  was  not  to  be  doubted,  for  he  had  lived  a  life  of 
unswerving  truth  since  his  birth-  His  dissolution  was  close  at  hand. 


A  NEW  PHASE   OF    THE   MYSTERY.  213 

"  Don't  speak  so,  father.  I  am  going  very  soon.  I  know 
it — I  am  sure  of  it.  Even  four-and-twenty  hours  may  be 
too  late.  Do  not  contradict  me,  for  I  know  what  I  say. 
Will  not  good  Nelly  come  ?  " 

"  I  think  she  can,  my  child.  I  will  go  and  see  her  at 
once." 

"  And  why  won't  you  let  me  see  Orion  Lindell  ?  Oh,  I 
love  that  noble  young  man  dearly.  You  have  told  me  so 
much — and  my  good  nurse  has  told  me  so  much  of  him. 
You  will  bring  him,  won't  you  ?  Let  him  come  with 
Nelly." 

The  merchant  promised  that  he  would  ;  and  when, 
shortly  afterwards,  he  left  the  apartment,  he  hastened  to 
his  own  room  and  wept.  The  only  being  of  his  own  house- 
hold in  whom  he  had  found  joy  and  blessedness  was  pass- 
ing away. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

A    NEW    PHASE    OF    THE    MYSTERY. 

ORION  LINDELL  was  at  his  anvil,  swaying  the  ponder- 
ous hammer  with  heavy,  regular  strokes,  when  a  man 
entered,  whom  he  recognized  as  Mr.  Tiverton's  coach- 
man. The  visitor  approached  our  hero  and  informed  him 
that  Mr.  Tiverton  was  in  his  coach  at  the  entrance  to  the 
court,  and  wished  to  see  him.  The  young  gold-beater 
stopped  not  to  make  any  other  preparations  than  simply  to 
wash  his  hands,  and  then  hastened  out  to  the  coach.  He 
found  the  merchant  there,  and  was  greeted  very  warmly. 

"  Mr.  Lindell,"  he  said,  "  I  am  on  my  way  to  your  house 
to  see  if  Ellen  can  be  brought  to  her  old  home.  My  son 
cannot  live  much  longer,  and  he  is  very  anxious  to  see  her. 
And  he  also  wishes  to  see  you.  Can  you  accompany  me  ?" 

"  Your  son  wishes  to  see  me  ? "  said  Orion,  with  sur- 
prise. 

"  Yes.  He  has  heard  much  about  you.  Mrs.  Milmer 
has  told  him  much,  and  he  has  heard  of  you  in  other  ways. 
He  is  very  anxious  that  you  should  come  with  Ellen.  How 
is  it — can  you  be  spared  ?  " 


214  ORION,    THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

"  Certainly,"  returned  the  youth  ;  and  having  promised 
to  return  very  soon  he  went  back  to  the  shop. 

Mr.  Garvey  seemed  really  pleased  to  grant  his  request, 
and  ere  long  he  was  seated  by  the  merchant's  side,  and  was 
being  whirled  off  up  Broadway. 

For  some  time  not  a  word  was  spoken  by  either  of  the 
inmates  of  the  coach.  The  merchant  seemed  buried  in 
some  painful  reflection,  while  Orion  trembled  perceptibly 
beneath  the  influence  of  the  thoughts  that  were  struggling 
in  his  mind.  Once  he  had  almost  spoken  the  first  words 
of  the  idea  he  wished  to  broach,  but  they  came  not  forth. 
He  had  wished  for  an  opportunity  to  speak  with  the 
guardian  of  Ellen  Durand,  but  upon  reflection  he  resolved 
to  put  it  off  to  another  time.  He  might  not  receive  a  fav- 
orable answer,  and  should  such  be  the  case  it  would  detract 
from  the  pleasure  of  the  present  visit.  When  he  had  thus 
settled  that  question  in  his  mind  he  became  calm  and 
assured  once  more,  and  ere  long  the  merchant  opened  a 
conversation  which  lasted  until  they  reached  the  youth's 
house. 

They  found  Ellen  in  the  parlor  engaged  in  reading.  She 
was  glad  to  see  her  good  guardian,  and  arose  to  greet  him. 

"  Ellen,"  said  Mr.  Tiverton,  as  soon  as  he  had  taken  a 
seat,  "  I  have  come  to  carry  you  home." 

"  Home  ?  "  she  uttered,  faintly. 

"  Yes.  Poor  Conrad  is  passing  away.  This  morning  he 
felt  that  the  hour  of  dissolution  was  near  at  hand,  and  he 
wished  me  to  bring  you  to  see  him.  He  was  very  anxious. 
He  wished  to  see  both  you  and  our  good  friend,  Mr.  Lin- 
dell.  Do  you  feel  able  to  go  ? " 

"  I  must  see  Conrad — indeed  I  must,"  said  Ellen.  "  If 
you  drive  carefully,  I  think  it  would  not  harm  me." 

"  Then  let  us  prepare  at  once,  for  my  poor  boy  is  very 
anxious.  Where  is  Mrs.  Lindell  ? " 

"  She  is  up-stairs,  I  think." 

But  as  Ellen  spoke  the  door  opened,  and  the  hostess  en- 
tered. She  started  back  as  she  saw  the  merchant,  but 
quickly  overcoming  the  emotion  she  entered  the  room  and 
greeted  her  visitor.  Again  Orion  witnessed  that  strange 
scene  which  had  always  followed  the  meeting  of  his  mother 
with  Mr.  Tiverton.  The  former  grew  pale  and  agitated, 
while  the  latter  gazed  with  rapt  eagerness  into  her  face. 


A   NEW  PHASE   OF   THE  MYSTERY.  215 

But  on  the  present  occasion  both  seemed  to  overcome  their 
mysterious  emotions  more  easily  than  usual,  for  another 
matter  of  importance  was  upon  the  tapis. 

"  I  have  come  to  steal  away  your  charge,  Mrs.  Lindell," 
the  merchant  said  with  a  slight  smile. 

"To  take  her  away?"  exclaimed  the  widow,  tremu- 
lously. 

"  Yes.  My  son  wishes  very  much  to  see  her  before  he 
dies  ;  and  he  can  not  live  long." 

"  Then  she  will  come  back  no  more,"  the  hostess  said,  in 
a  low,  painful  tone. 

The  maiden  opened  her  lips  with  an  energetic  expres- 
sion, but  she  did  not  speak.  The  words  she  would  have 
uttered  failed  to  come  forth,  and  she,  too,  trembled. 

"  Of  course  she  will  visit  you,"  said  Mr.  Tiverton ; 
"  although  it  might  not  be  policy  for  her  to  come  back  at 
once." 

"  I  will  visit  you,  if  I  live,  my  dear  friend,"  Ellen  cried, 
earnestly.  "  Be  assured  you  shall  not  be  forgotten." 

The  widow  seemed  grateful  for  this,  though  she  felt  very 
sad  at  the  thought  of  parting  with  one  whom  she  had 
learned  to  love  so  fondly.  But  Orion  looked  all  unhappi- 
ness.  He  felt  sure  that  the  beautiful  being  would  come  no 
more  to  see  him.  She  might  visit  his  mother,  but  that 
would  be  in  the  day-time  while  he  was  away  at  his  work, 
and  he  would  not  see  her.  And  as  for  visiting  her,  he  had 
no  more  thoughts  of  intruding  himself  upon  the  company 
of  those  at  the  merchant's  palace,  than  he  had  that  she 
would  visit  him  among  the  workmen  in  his  shop.  While 
his  mother  was  helping  Ellen  to  get  ready  for  departing, 
the  youth  went  up  to  his  own  chamber.  He  sank  into  a 
chair,  and  bowed  his  head  upon  his  hands.  When  he  again 
looked  up  there  were  tears  upon  his  cheeks. 

"  It  is  past !  "  he  murmured  to  himself.  "  The  dream  is 
over  !  She  is  going  from  us,  and  will  henceforth  associate 
with  those  of  her  own  station  in  the  social  scale.  Oh  !  she 
will  never  find  a  truer  heart  than  this— never  ! — I  wish  I 
had  not  known  her.  I  wish,  when  I  had  saved  her,  she  had 
been  shut  out  from  me.  Then  I  might  have  remembered 
a  human  life  saved,  and  been  happy  ;  but  now  a  heart  is 
crushed  and  broken  !  Yet,  sweet  one,  it  was  not  thy  fault. 
Oh,  no !  Thou  art  pure  as  heaven,  'Tis  my  misfortune  ! M 


2 1C  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

At  this  juncture  the  youth  heard  his  mother's  voice  call- 
ing to  him  from  below.  He  went  to  the  glass,  and  having 
brushed  away  all  traces  of  tears  from  his  face,  he  descended 
and  rejoined  the  merchant  and  his  niece  in  the  parlor.  His 
mother  was  not  there.  She  had  kissed  the  maiden,  and 
blessed  her,  and  then  left  the  apartment.  Mr.  Tiverton 
was  very  uneasy  on  account  of  her  strange  behavior,  and  it 
was  some  time  ere  he  could  appear  like  himself. 

At  length,  however,  Ellen  was  assisted  to  the  coach,  and 
as  Orion  looked  back,  after  he  had  got  in,  he  saw  his 
mother  at  the  front  windows,  with  her  kerchief  at  her  eyes. 
He  could  even  see  her  frame  quiver  with  the  deep  emotion 
that  moved  her.  This  last  may  have  been  a  fancy,  but  it 
was  based  upon  a  fact,  nevertheless.  He  was  sure  that  the 
mere  departing  of  her  lovely  patient  could  not  produce  all 
this,  for  she  had  too  much  self-control  for  such  a  result. 
He  had  only  seen  her  once  before  when  Mr.  Tiverton  had 
visited  her,  and  he  remembered  well  the  scene  which  had 
transpired  then.  Did  she  always  suffer  thus  when  the 
wealthy  visitor  came  ?  Before  he  had  stopped  to  ask  him- 
self concerning  the  propriety  of  such  a  question  he  had 
spoken  it : 

"  Mr.  Tiverton,"  he  said,  "  did  you  ever  know  my  mother 
in  some  earlier  time  ? " 

The  merchant  started  with  a  sudden  movement,  and  his 
eyes  gleamed  with  a  strange  light.  He  had  been  buried  in  a 
fit  of  deep  meditation  when  he  was  thus  aroused,  and  it  was 
some  seconds  ere  he  replied. 

"Why  do  you  ask  me  that  question?"  he  said,  gazing 
eagerly  into  the  youth's  face. 

"  I  meant  no  harm,  sir.     I  only — " 

"  I  did  not  think  of  harm,  I  assure  you,"  interposed  the 
merchant  as  his  companion  hesitated.  "  But  I  only  wished 
to  know  why  you  asked  the  question." 

"  You  must  be  aware,  sir,  why  I  asked  it." 

"  Aye — you  allude  to  the  emotions  your  good  mother  has 
betrayed  in  my  presence.' 

"  I  do,  sir." 

"  I  have  been  puzzled  as  much  as  you  have.  I  wish  you 
had  asked  her  what  it  was  that  moved  her  so." 

"  I  did,"  returned  Orion,  forgetting,  in  his  anxiety,  that 
he  might  be  telling  that  which  he  should  keep  to  himself. 


A   NEW  PHASE   OF    THE  MYSTERY.  217 

"  Ha — you  did  ?     And  what  was  her  answer  ? " 

"  It  seemed  to  frighten  her  when  she  found  that  I  had 
discovered  it.  I  found  her,  just  after  you  had  left  the 
house.  She  was  upon  her  knees — her  hands  frantically 
clasped — her  cheeks  streaming  with  tears,  and  her  whole 
frame  quivering.  When  I  asked  her  to  explain  she  started 
as  though  I  had  hurt  her,  and — But  I  forgot.  Pardon  me, 
sir.  I  ought  not  to  have- told  of  this." 

"  Don't  stop  now,"  whispered  the  merchant  eagerly. 
"  You  can  trust  me.  I  assure  you  no  harm  shall  come  from  it. 
What  did  she  answer  when  you  asked  why  she  did  thus  ? " 

"  She  bade  me  ask  her  no  more.  She  caught  me  by  the 
hand,  and  in  a  tone,  and  with  a  look,  that  fairly  startled 
me,  besought  me,  if  I  loved  her,  never  to  speak  of  it  more. 
She  said  1  must  forget  that  I  had  ever  seen  her  thus. 
Since  then  she  has  been  more  firm,  but  yet  her  emotions 
are  too  strong  to  be  entirely  concealed.  As  I  looked  back 
upon  her  just  now,  after  I  had  taken  my  seat  here  in  the 
coach,  I  saw  her  at  the  window  bowed  in  tears  !  " 

Paul  Tiverton  gazed  some  moments  upon  the  youth  with 
a  sort  of  vacant  stare,  and  with  but  very  little  change  of 
countenance.  Gradually  he  raised  his  hands  until  they 
met,  and  as  they  clasped  spasmodically  together  a  quick, 
deep  tremor  shook  his  frame  again.  Paler  and  paler  grew 
his  face,  until  the  last  sign  of  life  was  gone,  even  from  the 
lips — the  eyes  glared  half  wildly  for  a  moment,  and  then 
their  life  went  out.  A  deep  groan  burst  from  his  lips,  and 
in  a  moment  he  had  fallen  forward,  and  was  caught  in  the 
stout  arms  of  Orion  ! 

"  Mercy ! "  cried  Ellen,  starting  forward.  But  before  she 
could  speak  further  the  youth  put  her  back. 

"  Miss  Durand,"  he  said,  eagerly  and  imperatively,  you 
must  not  lend  your  aid  here.  Remember  that  you  are  still 
an  invalid ;  or,  at  least,  that  a  very  slight  cause  might 
throw  you  back.  Yet  I  will  take  your  advice.  He  has 
fainted,  I  think." 

Thus  speaking  Orion  lifted  the  merchant  upon  the  seat,  and 
then  called  for  the  driver  to  stop.  There  was  a  faint  throbbing 
of  the  pulse,  but  no  breath.  His  name  was  called  aloud, 
but  without  answer. 

"  Thomas,  how  long  will  it  take  you  to  drive  home  at 
your  quickest  speed  ? " 


2i8  OKIOtf,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

"  Two  minutes,"  answered  the  coachman. 

"  Then  drive  on.     Your  master  has  fainted." 

In  a  moment  more  the  spirited  horses  were  speeding  on 
right  swiftly,  but  at  the  end  of  a  minute  the  merchant  be- 
gan to  revive.  He  gave  a  gasp — there  were  one  or  two 
spasmodic  throes  of  the  chest — and  then  the  eyes  were 
slowly  opened.  Orion  chafed  his  brow  and  temples,  and 
ere  many  moments  he  seemed  to  realize  where  he  was,  for 
he  tried  to  raise  his  head  from  the  youth's  lap. 

"  Mr.  Tiverton — do  you  know  where  you  are  ? "  Orion 
asked. 

"I  am  very  weak,"  he  returned  faintly. 

"  Here  we  are  at  your  house.      Will  you  try  to  walk?" 

The  coach  had  stopped,  and  as  the  merchant  was  raised 
to  a  sitting  posture,  he  gradually  came  to  a  comprehension 
of  things  about  him.  Orion  bade  Ellen  to  remain  where 
she  was  until  they  had  conducted  Mr.  Tiverton  in,  and  she 
promised  that  she  would.  The  weak  man  was  assisted 
from  the  carriage,  but  he  could  walk  very  well  with  the  as- 
sistance of  one,  so  the  coachman  helped  him  to  the  door, 
and  from  there,  when  it  was  opened,  to  the  parlor.  Mean- 
while the  gold-beater  asked  Ellen  if  he  should  help  her  to 
the  house,  and  she  replied — "  Certainly." 

"Thomas,"  spoke  Mr.  Tiverton,  shaking  himself,  and 
then  pressing  his  hand  upon  his  brow,  "say  nothing  of  this 
to  any  one,  understand  ? " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  All  right." 

By  this  time  Orion  and  Ellen  had  entered  the  parlor, 
and  the  former  at  once  conducted  his  companion  to  a  sofa, 
and  then  took  her  bonnet  and  shawl. 

"  Do  not  call  any  one, "  said  the  host,  fearing  that  some 
of  the  movements  were  to  that  end.  "  I  shall  be  strong  in 
a  few  moments." 

Thus  speaking  he  bowed  his  head,  and  for  some  time  he 
seemed  lost  in  profound  thought.  At  length  he  arose.  At 
first  his  step  was  tottering,  but  gradually  it  became 
steady,  and  then  he  turned  to  the  youthful  couple  and 
said  : 

"  Excuse  me  for  a  few  moments.  Remain  here  and 
make  yourself  comfortable  until  I  return."  And  upon  this 
he  turned  and  walked  to  the  back  parlor,  and  having 


A   NEW  PHASE  OF   THE  MYSTERY.  219 

thrown  open  one  of  the  glass  doors  he  entered  his  library, 
and  closed  the  doors  behind  him. 

'*  What  can  this  mean  ? "  said  Ellen  earnestly. 

•'  You  have  heard  all  that  I  know,"  the  young  man  re- 
plied. "  I  fear  not  to  trust  you  with  everything  I  under- 
stand. The  sight  of  Mr.  Tiverton  affected  my  mother 
nearly  the  same  as  we  have  seen  him  affected ;  but  she 
would  tell  me  nothing.  It  is  very  strange." 

"  It  is,  surely,"  returned  the  maiden.  "  My  guardian  is 
a  very  strong  man,  and  it  must  have  been  something  won- 
derful that  could  have  moved  him  so." 

"  Perhaps  the  sickness  of  his  boy  has  shocked  his  nerves. 
And — it  may  be  that  his  faintness  was  the  result  of  some 
sudden  indisposition." 

"  Surely  that  may  have  been  the  case,"  added  Ellen. 

A  few  moments  after  this,  Mr.  Tiverton  looked  into  the 
room. 

"  Orion,"  he  said,  "  I  wish  to  see  you  a  moment.  You  will 
not  be  uneasy  for  a  short  time,  darling  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,"  returned  Ellen. 

So  Orion  went  into  the  library,  and  having  closed  the 
door  the  merchant  motioned  him  to  a  seat. 

"  My  dear  sir,"  said  the  host,  in  an  uneasy  tone,  but  yet 
with  candor  and  frankness,  "  you  have  seen  this  day  what 
must  call  up  strange  fancies,  surmises  and  doubts  in  your 
mind ;  and  I  am  aware  if  I  leave  it  thus  you  will  look 
upon  me  only  with  the  most  dubious  feelings.  And  yet  I 
cannot  explain.  I  have  no  right  to.  I  am  sure  I  now  know 
what  hitherto  has  appeared  so  strange  and  inexplicable  to 
me  in  your  mother's  conduct.  Of  course  you  will  believe 
me  when  I  assure  you  that  in  all  this  mystery  there  is  not  a 
particle  of  wrong.  As  true  as  I  live  I  would  that  I  could 
reveal  it  all  unto  you.  But  I  cannot — I  must  not.  Were  it 
to  save  my  life  I  would  not  lift  the  veil  from  this  hidden 
thing.  I  wish  you  to  put  confidence  in  me.  " 

'•I  do,  sir — the  fullest  confidence,"  answered  Orion, 
quickly." 

"  And  will  you  not  answer  me  a  few  questions  ? " 

"Anything  that  is  proper." 

"Of  course.     Your  mother  is  a  widow,  is  she  not  ?" 

"  She  is,  sir." 

"  What  was  her  husband's  name  ? " 


220  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE*  TER. 

"  Jonathan  Lindell.  " 

The  merchant  gave  a  sudden  start  at  his  answer,  but 
quickly  proceeded: 

<•  Where  did  he  live  ? " 

"  In  Snowville." 

"  How  long  has  he  been  dead  ? " 

"  He  died  when  I  was  six  years  old." 

"  And  what  is  your  exact  age  ? " 

"  I  was  twenty-two  on  the  fourteenth  of  last  March." 

Here  Mr.  Tiverton  bowed  his  head  and  pondered  awhile, 
and  then  he  resumed  : 

"  How  long  have  you  resided  in  the  city  ?  " 

"  For  nine  years.  My  mother  had  some  little  property, 
and  she  came  here  and  purchased  the  house  in  which  we 
now  live,  and  began  to  keep  boarders.  In  this  way  she 
supported  herself  and  me  until  I  was  able  to  assure  her  a 
living  from  the  proceeds  of  my  labor." 

"What  did  your  mother  do  before  she  was  married  ? " 

"  She  was  a  school-teacher  for  several  years." 

"  I  am  much  obliged  to  you,  Orion,  for  your  kindness  ; 
and  now  I  wish  to  hear  from  your  own  lips  that  you  do  not 
blame  me  for  keeping  the  cause  of  my  strange  emotion 
from  you."  >J 

"  You  need  be  under  no  apprehension  on  that  account, 
sir,"  the  youth  replied,  frankly.  "  I  have  the  fullest  confi- 
dence in  your  honor,  as  a  man,  and  in  your  faith  as  a  friend  ; 
and  under  the  present  circumstances  I  shall  entertain 
some  feeling  of  anxiety,  perhaps,  but  no  feeling  of  blame 
towards  you.  As  I  calmly  reflect  upon  the  aif air  I  see  that 
what  my  mother  wished  not  to  tell  me  I  have  no  right  to  ask 
of  you.  Let  it  pass,  sir.  I  would  like  to  have  this  matter 
solved,  but  not  at  the  expense  of  suffering  to  another." 

The  merchant  caught  the  generous  youth  by  the  hand, 
and  while  the  moisture  gathered  in  his  eyes  he  said  : 

"  Bless  you,  sir — bless  you.  You  shall  not  suffer  from 
tbis.  I  am  sorry  you  saw  what  you  did,  for  he  is  much  to 
blame  v/ho,  of  his  own  free  will,  opens  to  another  the 
existence  of  a  secret  which  he  must  not  explain  ;  but  you 
know  I  acted  not  from  choice.  The  time  may — it  must — 
come  when  you  shall  know  all.  And  here,  with  the  blessing 
of  God  upon  you,  let  it  rest.  And  now  let  us  go  up  to  the 
room  of  my  son.  He  will  be  uneasy." 


THE  LAST  MISSION.  221 

When  they  returned  to  the  parlor  they  found  Ellen  still 
there  upon  one  of  the  sofas,  and  she  seemed  much  relieved 
to  see  them.  She  glanced  quickly  into  Orion's  face  to  see 
if  she  could  find  any  unwonted  emotion  there  ;  but  she 
found  it  as  calm  and  serene  as  ever. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE    LAST    MISSION. 

IT  was  near  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when  Mr.  Tiver- 
ton  entered  the  chamber  of  his  son  in  company  with 

Orion  and  Ellen.  The  sick  boy  recognized  the  gentle 
girl  in  a  moment,  and  a  joyful  exclamation  escaped  his  lips, 
and  a  sweet  smile  dwelt  upon  his  face,  as  his  old  playmate 
bent  over  him  and  imprinted  a  warm  kiss  urjon  his  pale 
brow. 

"  Oh — dear,  good  Nelly,"  he  whispered,  "  I  am  so  glad 
you  have  come  !  " 

Ellen  started  and  a  cold  shudder  crept  through  her  frame 
as  she  heard  that  voice.  Oh,  she  knew  too  well  that  the 
dread  Visitor  was  at  hand. 

"  Bring  a  chair,  sweet  Nelly,"  he  said,  "  and  sit  down 
here  by  my  side.  You  have  been  very  sick,  too." 

"  Yes,  Conrad,  I  have  been  very  sick  ;  but  God  has  been 
very  kind  to  me,  and  brought  me  up  out  of  my  suffering." 

"And  God  is  very  kind  to  me,  too,  good  Nelly.  He 
is  taking  me  up  from  my  suffering.  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  you 
have  come  to  see  me  before  I  go.  But  where  is  your  good 
friend  ? " 

"  This  is  Mr.  Lindell,  Conrad,"  said  Mr.  Tiverton,  as 
Orion  approached  the  bedside. 

The  face  of  the  boy  brightened  again  as  his  gaze  dwelt 
upon  the  handsome  features  of  the  young  man,  and  the  joy 
he  experienced  was  plainly  depicted  upon  his  countenance. 

"  Bring  a  chair,  sir,  and  sit  down  here  by  Nelly's  side. 
You  whom  I  have  not  seen  before  I  want  close  to  me.  If  I 
were  going  to  stay  here  on  earth  I  should  want  you  to  be 
my  brother.  Yon  would,  wouldn't  you  ? " 

*'  I  should  love  to  be  with  you  and  help  make  you  happy," 


222  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

returned  our  hero,  warmly  and  cheerfully,  at  the  same  time 
pressing  the  boy's  hand.  "  I  know  I  should  love  you." 

"  I  love  you  now,  Orion,"  responded  Conrad,  with  a  faint 
smile. 

"  How  can  you  love  one  whom  you  have  never  known  ?  " 

"  Ah — but  I  have  known  you.  My  father  has  told  me 
about  you  ;  and  my  good  nurse  has  told  me  about  you  ; 
and  my  little  darling  Lizzie  has  really  cried  when  telling  me 
how  kind  and  generous  you  were  to  her  mamma  and  papa 
and  herself.  Oh — I  wouldn't  have  sent  for  you  to  come  and 
see  me  if  I  hadn't  known  you.  And  then  you  saved  my 
good  Nelly's  life,  too.  I  should  think  you  would  love  him 
a  great  deal,  Nelly." 

The  maiden  started,  and  the  rich  blood  mounted  to  her 
cheeks  and  temples  in  a  flood.  She  did  not  answer  at  once, 
for  she  knew  not  what  to  say.  Love  him  !  Oh,  little  had 
the  sick  boy  dreamed  how  deeply,  how  fondly  she  loved 
him.  But  she  had  never  said  so.  Yet  Conrad  saw  some- 
thing in  this  silent  answer.  His  quick  eye,  which  had  lost 
its  grossness,  and  now  looked  down  into  the  soul  of  things, 
read  something  from  that  blush  which  seemed  to  please  him. 
And  he  saw  Orion's  face,  too.  He  saw  the  quick  tremor 
which  shook  that  stout  frame,  and  he  noticed  the  quiver  of 
emotion  which  manifested  itself  in  his  lips  and  eyes.  He 
waited  until  he  had  seen  enough  to  assure  him  of  the  truth, 
and  then  he  helped  his  foster  sister  out  of  the  trouble  by 
continuing — 

"  Very  few  men  would  have  dared  what  he  dared,  would 
they,  Nelly  ?  " 

"  Very  few,"  uttered  the  fair  girl,  energetically.  And  as 
she  said  this,  her  eye  sparkled,  and  a  warm  glow  suffused 
her  face.  This  did  not  escape  the  sick  boy's  notice. 

"  Good  Orion  ,"  he  said,  turning  to  our  hero,  "  you  saved 
a  very  valuable  life  ;  do  you  know  it  ?  " 

"  Aye,  Conrad,  I  do  know  it."  And  as  the  youth  made 
this  answer,  the  invalid  noticed  the  deep  meaning  that  re- 
vealed itself  upon  his  face. 

In  fact,  the  boy  had  dwelt  upon  this  theme  for  some 
days,  and  he  had  pondered  much  upon  its  various  bear- 
ings. First,  of  Orion,  he  knew  that  he  had  at  some  risk 
protected  little  Lizzie  and  her  mother,  and  he  had  carried 
joy  and  peace  into  that  houshold.  And  then  he  knew  that 


THE  LAST  MISSION.  223 

the  generous  youth  had  saved  his  own  sweet  Nelly's  life  at 
the  risk  of  his  own,  and  that,  too,  without  knowing  who  or 
what  she  was,  save  that  she  was  a  suffering  fellow-creature. 
And  then  his  father  had  told  him  all  about  Orion's  superior 
mental  attainments,  and  of  his  attachment  to  his  mother. 
And  he  had  been  told,  too,  by  the  same  father,  of  the 
gentleness,  the  goodness,  and  the  beauty  and  loveliness  of 
that  mother.  From  all  this  Conrad  had  learned  to  feel  a 
peculiar  love  for  the  young  gold-beater,  and  to  look  upon 
him  as  one  of  the  most  true  and  noble  men  of  whom  he  had 
any  knowledge.  From  this  side  of  the  subject  the  boy  had 
gone  over  on  to  the  other,  and  called  up  Ellen's  peculiar 
qualifications.  He  knew  her  thoroughly.  He  knew  that 
she  was  an  angel  upon  earth — a  blessed  presence  where  love 
and  sympathy  were  needed,  and  a  being  of  gentle  disposi- 
tion, firm  in  virtue  and  truth,  and  lovely  as  the  first  blush 
of  morning. 

All  this  he  had  told  to  his  nurse,  and  they  had  passed 
many  pleasant  hours  in  simply  comparing  the  two  beings. 
To  Constance  Milmer,  Orion  was  an  angel  of  Life  and 
Peace,  and  she  never  tired  of  telling  his  praise.  And  Con- 
rad looked  upon  Nelly  in  the  same  light. 

"  Well,  now,"  Conrad  had  said,  only  two  evenings  before 
this  present  meeting,  "  why  were  not  those  two  made  for 
each  other  ?  " 

"  If  they  love  each  other  I  should  say  they  were,"  had 
been  the  nurse's  reply. 

"  But  how  can  they  help  loving  each  other  ?  "  resumed 
the  boy.  "  If  they  have  come  together  they  can't  help  it. 
I  know  he  must  love  my  sweet  Nelly  ;  and  I  know  her  well 
enough  to  know  that  she  must  love  him.  Oh,  it  would 
make  me  very  happy  to  know  that  Nelly  would  have  such 
a  good  companion  and  protector  for  life." 

"But — ah  ! — Miss  Durand  is  wealthy  while  Orion  is  poor, 
and  she  moves  in  a  higher  circle,"  had  been  the  "but"  of 
the  nurse. 

"  Nelly  is  a  sensible  being,"  returned  Conrad,  and  there 
was  indignation  in  his  look  and  tone  as  he  spoke.  "  She 
loves  Truth  better  than  Fiction,  and  Honor  better  than 
Station,  and  Worth  better  than  Wealth,  and  Intellect  better 
than  Etiquette,  and  a  MAN  much  better  than  an  ape  of 
Fashion.  That's  what  Nelly  loves  !  " 


224  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

"  Then  I  am  sure  she  must  love  Orion." 

<k  I  shall  see." 

"  But,"  ventured  the  nurse,  "  they  may  love  each  other 
fondly,  and  yet  never  confess  it.  I  have  heard  of  such 
cases.  Orion  may  be  afraid  to  aspire  to  the  hand  of  one 
in  her  situation,  and  of  course  she  cannot  first  confess." 

"  We'll  see.     If  they  do  love,  they  shall  know  it !  " 

And  with  this  assertion,  made  in  a  meaning  tone,  Conrad 
had  dropped  the  subject  as  far  as  conversation  was  con- 
cerned, and  the  rest  of  his  thoughts  had  been  kept  to  him- 
self. 

After  the  boy  had  gazed  upon  the  couple  awhile  in  silence, 
he  turned  to  Nelly  and  asked  her  to  come  closer  to  him, 
for  he  had  something  important  to  say  to  her.  Orion  heard 
the  request,  and  he  arose  and  withdrew  to  another  part  of 
the  room. 

"  Nelly,"  the  warm-hearted  boy  commenced,  his  tone 
betraying  extreme  weakness,  and  some  pain,  "  I  shall  not 
be  with  you  much  more. — Stop — I  know  what  I  say. — I  am 
passing  away  ;  and  among  all  my  cares  of  earth  there  are 
but  two  that  stand  in  advance  of  my  care  for  you,  and  even 
they  assume  the  precedence  only  because  they  stand  in 
greater  need.  I  mean  the  moral  welfare — the  soul's  salva- 
tion— of  my  poor  mother  and  sister  ;  and  the  saving  of  my 
noble  father's  heart.  Next  to  these  comes  my  care  for  you 
who  have  been  my  only  playmate,  and  my  highest,  chiefest 
source  of  childish  joy.  Oh,  I  want  to  know  that  you  will 
be  happy  ere  I  leave  you.  There  used  to  be  a  man  come 
here  to  see  you — " 

"  Hold,  my  brother,"  interrupted  Ellen,  with  a  shudder, 
and  speaking  in  a  whisper.  "  You  mean  Jasper  Thornton  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  speak  of  him  no  more.  He  is  a  wicked  man — a 
low  debased  wretch  !  " 

"  Oh,  I  am  glad  you  know  it !  And  yet,  Nelly  dear,  you 
will  at  some  time  want  a  companion  and  protector  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  murmured  the  fair  girl,  tremulously. 

"  And  you  would  not  reject  real  worth  because  it  came 
not  with  wealth  ?  " 

Ellen  gazed  into  the  boy's  face,  and  she  was  moved  most 
strangely  when  she  saw  the  deep,  earnest  look  of  powerful 
interest  which  rested  there. 


THE  LAST  MISSION.  225 

"  No,  no,"  she  returned  with  eager  emphasis. 

"  You  won't  blame  me,  Nelly — but  I  love  Orion  Lindell, 
even  from  what  little  I  know  of  him.  Does  he  retain  his 
goodness  on  acquaintance  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it  grows  deeper  and  deeper  as  you  know  him," 
Ellen  replied,  with  a  simple  earnestness.  "  No  one  can 
know  a  tenth  part  of  his  real  worth  until  they  have  seen 
him  often,  and  conversed  with  him." 

"  And  don't  you  love  him,  my  own  sweet  Nelly  ?  You 
won't  be  afraid  to  answer  me  that." 

"  Why  do  you  ask  me  such  a  question  ? "  the  maiden 
returned. 

"  Because  I  want  to  know.  It  would  make  me  happy  if 
you  answer  as  I  think  you  will." 

"Well,"  said  Ellen,  trembling,  and  smiling,  and  with 
tears  starting  unconsciously  to  her  eyes,  "  I  do  love  him." 

"  Oh  !  I  knew  you  did  !  " 

"  — Sh  !     Don't  speak  so  loud,  Conrad  dear." 

"  Don't  be  afraid." 

The  boy  seemed  to  be  somewhat  fatigued  from  this,  and 
it  was  some  time  ere  he  spoke. again.  He  closed  his  eyes, 
and  as  his  breath  came  and  went,  at  long,  regular  intervals, 
pain-marks  were  visible  on  his  face.  At  length  he  looked 
up  again,  and  he  still  found  Ellen  by  his  side,  holding  one 
of  his  hands. 

"  Where  is  Orion  ?  "  he  asked,  speaking  with  an  effort. 

"  Here,"  returned  our  hero,  advancing  lightly  to  the 
bedside. 

Conrad  reached  forth  the  thin,  white  hand  which  was 
free,  and  the  young  man  took  it.  The  boy  now  lay  with 
both  Ellen  and  Orion  by  the  hand.  He  gazed  from  one  to 
the  other  several  times  with  an  earnest,  wistful  look,  and 
finally  a  bright,  joyful  gleam  shot  athwart  his  pallid  fea- 
tures. 

"  Orion,"  he  said,  with  more  power  in  his  whispered 
tones  than  he  had  before  manifested,  "  if  I  give  you  a  sac- 
red charge  ere  I  fall  asleep  will  you  accept  it,  and  be  faith- 
ful in  the  trust  ?  " 

"  How  could  I  be  otherwise  ?  "  returned  the  young  man, 
in  surprise. 

"  You  could  not,"  resumed  the  boy  ;  and  then,  in  a  tone 
of  deep  solemnity,  he  continued — "  I  am  going.  Sweet 


226  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

Nelly  has  been  mine  to  love  and  to  cherish  since  I  was  old 
enough  ;  and  strange  as  it  may  seem,  when  I  have  looked 
around  and  studied  the  characters  of  those  who  have 
hovered  about  her,  as  wasps  sometimes  linger  about  a  rose, 
I  have  shuddered  for  fear  that  in  an  evil  moment  some  of 
the  worthless  ones  might  entrap  her.  I  know  the  great 
secret  that  rests  between  you.  Oh  !  if  you  love  poor  Con- 
rad— if  you  would  have  him  pass  away  peacefully — then  do 
not  refuse  me  this."  As  he  spoke  he  had  contrived  to  take 
the  hand  which  had  held  his  own  into  his  grasp,  and  with  a 
half-smiling,  half-prayful  look,  he  placed  the  hand  of  Nelly 
within  that  of  Orion.  A  moment  more  he  gazed  upon  them, 
and  then  he  added — "  Remember,  brother  Conrad  did 
it,  and  it  made  him  happy.  Oh,  may  God  bless  you 
both!" 

Pale  and  trembling  stood  the  fair  couple  by  that  dying 
bed.  The  union  of  hands  which  the  boy  had  formed  was 
not  broken.  At  length  Ellen  looked  up  and  met  the 
gaze  of  her  companion.  It  was  full  of  love,  of  tender- 
ness, and  of  eager  hope.  A  smile — a  tearful,  prayerful 
smile — lighted  up  his  face.  -She  gazed  but  a  moment,  and 
then,  while  the  warm  tears  rushed  forth  from  her  eyes,  she 
sank  forward,  and  her  head  was  pillowed  upon  Orion's 
bosom.  He  wound  his  arms  tightly  about  her,  and  raising 
his  streaming  eyes  to  Heaven  he  murmured  : 

"  Oh,  great  God,  bear  witness  that  I  accept  the  trust ! 
And  the  best  energies  of  my  life  shall  be  devoted  to  the 
welfare  of  this  loved  being  !  " 

A  sweet,  heavenly  smile  passed  over  Conrad's  face,  and 
he  was  upon  the  point  of  speaking,  when  he  saw  his  father 
standing  by  his  side. 

"  Father,"  he  said  quietly,  "  You  will  not  object." 

"  You  have  done  well,  my  son,"  Mr.  Tiverton  replied  ; 
"  and  I  can  only  say,  God  bring  joy  and  peace  upon  the 
work  of  your  hands  ! " 

After  this  there  was  a  long  silence.  Ellen  arose  from 
her  resting-place,  and  once  more  took  Conrad's  hand,  while 
Orion  walked  to  the  window,  and  hid  his  face  in  his  hands. 
He  was  deeply  and  strangely  moved,  and  at  that  moment 
he  would  have  given  much  to  have  been  where  he  could 
have  given  wholly  away  to  the  wildness  of  his  feelings. 
The  sudden  bursting  in  upon  his  soul  of  the  holiest,  high- 


THE  LAST  MISSION.  227 

est  consummation  his  earthly  hopes  could  hold,  had  made 
a  mere  child  of  him,  and  the  mingled  emotions  of  gratitude 
for  the  boon,  of  hope  for  the  future,  and  of  sympathy  for 
the  dying  boy,  so  stirred  up  the  fountains  of  feeling,  that 
he  could  not  restrain  the  flood  that  burst  forth. 

"  Are  not  my  mother  and  sister  coming  ?  "  the  boy  whis- 
pered, at  length  opening  his  eyes. 

"  They  will  be  here  soon/'  his  father  said  ;  and  as  he 
spoke  he  turned  away  to  hide  the  expression  of  pain  that 
he  could  not  suppress  ;  for  that  mother  and  sister  had  been 
sent  for  nearly  half  an  hour  before. 

But  just  as  he  was  on  the  point  of  sending  again  the 
door  was  opened,  and  the  two  ladies  made  their  appear- 
ance. Mrs.  Tiverton  cast  a  quick  glance  about  the  room, 
and  a  look  of  indignation  dwelt  upon  her  face  as  she  saw 
Orion  Lindell  there  ;  but  as  the  deep,  heavy  breathing  of 
her  son  fell  upon  her  ear  she  turned  towards  him,  and  an 
expression  of  fear  drove  away  all  else  from  her  counte- 
nance. 

"  Ah — my  dear,  dear  mother,"  uttered  Ellen,  as  the  lady 
advanced,  "  I  am  glad  to  see  you  once  more." 

"Why — Ellen  Durand — is  this  you?"  the  woman  re- 
turned, allowing  the  fair  girl  to  take  two  of  her  fingers. 
"  Mr.  Tiverton  told  me  he  was  going  for  you  ;  but  I 
hardly  thought  you  would  come.  You  are  looking  very 
well — very  well,  considering  the  frightful  siege  you  have 
passed  through.  Isabella — here  is  Ellen.  She  has  come 
to  see  Conrad." 

There  was  a  peculiar  emphasis  to  this  last  expression, 
and  it  gave  Ellen  pain  ;  for  she  saw  that  Mrs.  Tiverton 
meant  to  insinuate  that  she  would  not  have  come  to  see  any 
one  else  of  the  family.  However,  she  allowed  nothing  of 
her  feelings  to  appear  upon  her  face,  but  met  Isabella  with 
a  cheerful  smile. 

"  Oh  !  my  poor,  poor  boy  !  "  the  mother  groaned,  "  you 
must  not  die  !  You  must  get  well !  You  won't  die  yet, 
Conrad." 

"  Yes,  mother — I  am  soon  to  leave  you.     But  there  is 
nothing  dreadful  about  it." 

But  Mrs.  Tiverton  could  not  be  persuaded  of  this.  She 
persisted  in  declaring  that  it  was  "horrible,"  and  "cruel," 
and  "  insupportable."  Conrad  bore  it  all  until  his  mother 


228  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

burst  forth  with  the  declaration  that  it  was  "wicked"  to 
have  her  boy  taken  from  her  thus  ! 

"  Oh,  mother,  do  not  speak  so  any  more  !  You  pain  me — • 
indeed  you  do.  You  surely  would  not  condemn  the  work 
of  your  Heavenly  Father.  He  lent  me  to  you,  and  he 
must  take  his  own  when  he  will.  If  you  love  me  do  not 
speak  so  again." 

The  parent  was  not  entirely  pleased  with  this,  and  ere  she 
had  time  to  think — while  the  spark  of  resentment  was  still 
burning — she  said  : 

"  I  suppose  your  nurse  and  your  Nelly,  and  the  rest  of 
your  visitors,  talk  very  prettily  to  you,  do  they  not?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  returned  the  boy,  who  had  not  the  least  idea 
that  his  mother  could  harbor  an  ill-feeling  at  such  a  time. 
"  They  have  been  a  source  of  great  consolation  to  me." 

"  Well — it's  a  pity  your  own  mother  couldn't  be  !  " 

"You  can,  mother  dear.  You  are,"  cried  Conrad.  "  My 
love  for  you  is  a  source  of  joy,  and  your  presence  makes 
me  happy." 

'•  Yes,"  added  the  unfeeling  parent,  "  if  she  only  keeps 
her  mouth  shut !  Well — I  never  was  made  to  speak  and 
act  what  I  did  not  feel." 

A  cold  shudder  passed  through  the  frames  of  all  present, 
save  Isabella,  at  this  strange  remark.  Mr.  Tiverton  clasped 
his  hands  upon  his  bosom,  and  upon  his  lips  dwelt  the  sim- 
ple sentence — unspoken  in  words,  but  deeply  uttered  in 
thought — "  God  forgive  her'' 

But  in  a  moment  more  all  thoughts  were  centered  upon 
Conrad.  A  long,  heavy  gasp  had  escaped  his  lips,  and  with 
a  convulsive  effort  he  started  to  a  sitting  posture  and 
grasped  his  mother  by  the  hand  !  It  was  the  first  time  he 
had  been  able  to  raise  himself  up  like  that  for  nearly  two 
weeks.  Mrs.  Tiverton  uttered  a  low  cry  of  fear,  for  the 
movement  frightened  her;  but  she  did  not  break  away 
from  the  firm  grasp  that  was  laid  upon  her,  for  there  was 
something  in  the  strange,  supernal  gaze  of  that  death- 
stricken  face  that  chained  her  to  the  spot. 

"  My  mother,"  the  boy  said,  with  startling  energy,  "  when 
I  am  gone  father  will  have  only  you  and  Bella  left  to  love 
him.  Be  good  to  him — be  kind — and  your  angel-boy  will 
look  down  and  bless  you  if  he  can  !  " 

"  You  forget  your  nur — " 


THE  PLOTTERS  FOR  EVIL.  229 

Whether  the  deep  wickedness  of  the  thought  she  was 
about  to  utter,  or  the  sudden  change  that  came  over  Con- 
rad's face,  prevented  her  from  finishing  the  sentence  cannot 
be  known  ;  but  instead  of  finishing  it  she  started  back  and 
gazed  fixedly  upon  her  boy. 

"  Conrad  !  Conrad  ! "  cried  the  father,  springing  for- 
ward, and  bending  over  the  wasted  form  ;  for  the  sufferer 
had  fallen  back  upon  his  pillow.  "  My  boy,  my  boy,  can 
not  you  speak  to  me  ?  " 

The  dying  one  opened  his  eyes,  and  a  sweet  smile  played 
upon  his  features  as  the  last  glimmering  of  the  setting  sun 
rests  upon  a  landscape. 

"  Father — Nelly — Orion — Aunt  Constance — little  Lizzie 
— where  are  you  ? " 

"  We  are  all  here,  my  darling  boy." 

"Mother— Bella— "- 

"  Are  here,  Conrad." 

"  And  I  am — with — you — no — more  !  " 

They  were  the  words  of  a  struggling  spirit — and  they 
were  true.  The  chord  was  severed — the  bowl  broken  ! 
The  night  was  passed — the  morning  had  come — the  morn- 
ing of  the  Day  Eternal ! 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

THE    PLOTTERS   FOR   EVIL. 

THE  darkest  hour  of  the  season  of  mourning  had  passed 
— that  hour  which  follows  the  return  from  the  tomb 
where  the  casket  of  the  loved  one  had  been  laid  away. 
Even  though  the  soul  be  gone,  yet  there  is  a  strange,  mystic  sat- 
isfaction in  cherishing  that  marble-like  form.  To  gaze  upon 
the  loved  face — to  kiss  the  cold  brow — to  strew  sweet  flowers 
in  the  coffin — to  re-arrange  this  knotted  ribbon,  and  smooth 
down  the  white  pillow — to  conduct  sympathizing  friends 
into  the  sacred  chamber  and  show  them  the  hallowed  form 
about  which  so  much  love  is  still  clustering, — all  this  is 
comfort — the  cherished  one  is  not  yet  wholly  lost.  The 
mirror  is  still  left — the  tabernacle  is  with  us,  and  we  can  gaze 
upon  it  and  say  :  This  is  my  beloved  !  But  when  we  have 
Jborne  that  form  away,  never  to  gaze  upon  it  again — then, 


230  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

indeed,  is  the  loved  one  gone  !  That  empty  apartment  is  dark 
and  drear,  the  echo  of  our  footfall  has  a  ghostly  sound,  and 
a  chill,  awful  sensation  creeps  upon  us.  We  cannot  stay 
there.  Draw  the  curtains  and  bar  the  door  !  It  was  his 
room,  and  he  has  left  it  !  We  can  no  more  toil  for  him, 
even  in  death,  for  they  have  taken  him  away !  The  noise 
and  bustle  of  the  last  sacred  rite  are  hushed,  a  solemn  still- 
ness pervades  the  house,  which  is  only  broken  by  sobs  and 
whispers,  and  the  heart  for  a  while  sinks  down  cold  and 
heavy  in  its  narrow  chamber  ! 

Paul  Tiverton  still  mourned,  and  was  sad  and  lonely. 
But  he  had  one  source  of  comfort  in  the  presence  of  Ellen 
Durand.  When  he  was  at  home  he  had  her  with  him,  and 
but  for  her  cheering  presence  he  would  have  been  wholly 
borne  down  with  grief.  He  would  go  out  evenings  and  be 
gone  several  hours,  and  sometimes  he  came  home  with 
traces  of  tears  upon  his  face.  On  the  fourth  day  after  the 
funeral  of  Conrad  the  merchant  told  Ellen  he  was  going 
into  the  country  to  be  gone  several  days.  There  was  some- 
thing strange  in  his  manner,  and  he  refused  to  reveal  the 
object  of  his  journey.  He  informed  his  wife  that  he  was 
going,  and  she  told  him  it  would  do  him  good. 

"  I  hope  it  may  revive  you,"  she  said. 

"  I  think  it  will,"  returned  the  husband.  "  But  I  shall  not 
be  gone  long." 

"  What  is  it  that  calls  you  away  ? " 

"  Business." 

"  Yes — I  supposed  so.  Of  course  you  will  come  home 
when  you  get  ready." 

"  I  shall  be  likely  to,"  he  said  ;  and  with  this  he  turned 
away.  He  had  no  difficult  in  seeing  that  his  wife  was  well 
satisfied  in  view  of  his  absence,  and  for  a  while  he  was 
troubled  by  the  thought  ;  but  he  knew  that  she  was  fond  of 
her  own  way,  and  perhaps  her  satisfaction  only  came  from 
the  feeling  that  she  would  have  no  restraint  upon  her 
actions. 

After  the  merchant  was  gone,  his  wife  and  daughter  com- 
menced their  round  of  visiting  once  more,  and  Ellen 
was  left  alone  with  Constance  Milmer  and  little  Lizzie. 
But  she  did  not  miss  Julia  and  Isabella  ;  their  society  had 
never  been  a  source  of  much  joy,  and  of  late  it  had  become 
more  worthless  than  ever.  She  found  in  Mrs.  Milmer, 


THE  PLOTTERS  FOR  EVIL.  231 

however,  a  genial  companion,  and  she  very  quickly  learned 
to  love  and  esteem  her.  The  widow  had  not  yet  received 
any  sewing  from  the  hostess,  but  Ellen  had  plenty  which 
she  wanted  done,  and  as  she  was  not  yet  able  to  sew  for 
herself  she  set  Constance  at  work  for  her. 

And  thus  the  time  passed  very  pleasantly.  While  the 
widow  sewed  Ellen  and  Lizzie  talked  and  studied,  for  the 
fair  maiden  had  taken  upon  herself  the  task  of  teaching  the 
little  one  how  to  write  and  cypher,  and  also  of  improving 
her  in  reading.  One  thing  alone  troubled  the  generous 
girl  :  She  had  not  seen  Orion  to  speak  with  him  since  the 
night  on  which  Conrad  died.  The  young  man  had  at- 
tended the  funeral,  but  of  course  she  had  enjoyed  no 
opportunity  then  of  speaking  with  him.  She  wondered  why 
he  did  not  come  to  see  her.  Could  it  be  that  he  had  given 
her  up — that  he  would  not  seek  the  hand  Conrad  had  so 
strangely  bestowed  upon  him  ?  She  worried  herself  ex- 
ceedingly with  such  thoughts,  though  thus  far  she  had  con- 
tinued to  hide  them  from  Mrs.  Milmer,  notwithstanding  he 
was  often  the  theme  of  their  conversation.  Constance 
could  never  tire  of  that  theme.  She  worshiped  the  noble 
youth,  and  often  did  she  assert  that  the  earth  bore  not  a 
better  man  upon  its  bosom.  And  Ellen  Durand  was  a  will- 
ing listener,  for  she,  too,  almost  worshiped  Orion,  and 
though  she  shrank  from  saying  much  herself,  yet  she  could 
enjoy  her  companion's  earnest  praise  of  him  from  morning 
till  night. 

Mrs.  Tiverton  looked  upon  this  friendship  between  Ellen 
and  the  widow  with  bitterness  and  anger.  She  had  two 
reasons  for  this.  First,  she  felt  chagrined  and  mortified  to 
think  that  the  poor  outcast  should  possess  powers  of  pleas- 
ing for  the  virtuous  girl  which  were  denied  to  her.  And  sec- 
ondly, she  had  not  forgiven  Constance  for  the  first  bitter 
pangs  of  ill-founded  jealousy  she  had  caused  her,  nor  for 
having  overcome  her  by  remaining  in  the  house  after  she 
had  wished  her  away.  She  was  determined  that  Ellen 
should  not  associate  with  her  any  more  if  she  could  help  it. 
She  dared  not  forbid  the  gentle  girl  from  seeking  the 
widow's  society,  for  she  dared  not  offend  her.  Ellen  was 
wealthy,  and  had  many  warm,  admiring  friends  who  were  of 
the  first  families  in  the  city.  And  those  friends  were  such 
as  Mrs,  Tiverton  felt  a  pride  in  entertaining,  for  they  be- 


23 2  ORION,    THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

longed  to  a  class  that  possessed  the  double  claim  to  dis- 
tinction of  wealth  and  intellect ;  and  she  knew,  too,  that 
were  Ellen  away  they  would  not  honor  her. 

But  the  base  woman  had  another  plan.  She  knew  that 
Ellen  was  sensitive  where  virtue  was  concerned,  ready  to 
shun  any  tainted  thing  as  she  would  a  viper,  and  she  meant 
to  operate  upon  this  feeling. 

"  Ellen,  my  love,"  she  said  one  day,  as  the  two  met  alone 
in  the  library,  "I  am  pleased  to  see  you  improving  so  rao- 
idly.  You  have  about  overcome  your  weakness." 

"  Yes,  Aunt  Julia."     She  had  always  called  her  aunt. 

"  I  thought  so,"  resumed  the  hypocrite,  with  an  expres- 
sion of  satisfaction.  "  I  think  you  have  wholly  recovered." 

"  Very  nearly  so.  My  arm  is  not  wholly  strong  yet,  but 
otherwise  I  am  as  well  as  ever." 

"  Oh — I  am  very  glad.  Here — sit  down,  Nelly,  dear.  I 
want  to  speak  with  you.  There." 

The  maiden  sat  down,  and  she  also  listened  attentively 
to  what  the  woman  had  to  say.  She  knew  that  this  frank- 
ness was  all  assumed,  and  that  the  sympathy  was  only  for 
the  occasion  ;  and  she  thought  within  herself  that  Mrs. 
Tiverton  was  very  foolish  to  suppose  she  could  deceive  her 
thus.  But  hypocrites  do  not  know  all  this. 

"  My  dear  Nelly,"  commenced  the  hostess,  putting  on  her 
whole  stock  of  apparent  concern  and  sincerity,  "  while  you 
were  weak  and  faint,  and  needed  companionship  such  as  I 
could  not  give  you,  I  kept  my  own  counsel,  but  I  can  not 
bear  to  see  you  imposed  upon  longer.  You  are  not  aware 
of  the  character  of  the  woman  whom  you  have  taken  into 
your  confidence." 

"  Do  you  mean  Constance  Milmer  ?  "  asked  the  maiden, 
in  surprise. 

"  Yes,  my  dear — I  mean  her.  You  do  not  know  how 
much  you  may  suffer  by  a  continuation  of  your  companion- 
ship with  her.  She  is  not  what  you  suppose." 

"  What,  Aunt  Julia  ?  I  know  she  is  poor ;  but 
surely — " 

"  Stop,  Ellen.  Her  poverty  does  not  hurt  her,  though  I 
must  confess  that  I  should  be  chary  of  my  intercourse  with 
one  in  her  social  station,  But  this  is  nothing  compared 
with  her  character.  She  is  not  what  you  think  her.  She  is 
a  tainted  thing  !  She  has  most  basely  wronged  me  !  " 


THE  PLOTTERS  FOR  EVIL.  233 

"  Wronged  you,  Aunt  Julia  !     How  ?  " 

"  With  my  husband's  shame  !  " 

Ellen  Durand  started  at  these  words,  and  a  pallor  came 
upon  her  face.  But  it  was  only  for  the  moment. 

"  Then  your  husband  has  wronged  you  ?  "  she  said  very 
calmly. 

*:  Yes,  Ellen,"  the  woman  sobbed,  placing  her  perfumed 
kerchief  to  her  eyes,  and  trying  to  raise  a  tear.  "  Oh,  I 
never  meant  to  tell  it,  but  I  could  not  see  you  so  imposed 
upon,  my  dear  !  " 

"  But  why  have  you  allowed  her  to  remain  beneath  your 
roof  ? "  the  fair  girl  asked,  as  calmly  as  before. 

"  Oh,  I  could  not  help  it  !  My  husband  would  not  let 
her  go.  Only  think  of  the  brazen  thing  !  What  a  sunken 
creature  !  Oh,  here  in  my  own  home  ! — beneath  my  own 
roof ! — almost  before  my  own  eyes  !  Oh,  Ellen,  it  has 
almost  driven  me  mad  ! " 

But  Ellen  had  never  seen  any  of  this  madness  before, 
though  she  had  seen  from  the  first  that  she  was  jealous 
of  the  poor  widow.  She  gazed  upon  the  sobbing  woman 
a  few  moments  in  silence,  and  when  she  spoke  her  voice  was 
low,  deep,  and  calm,  her  face  rigid  and  stern,  and  her  full, 
bright  eye  burning  with  an  intense  fire. 

"Julia  Tiverton,"  she  said,  scarcely  above  a  whisper, 
"  you  should  not  have  told  me  this  !  " 

"  Why  not  ? " 

"  Because  /  wish  to  love  and  respect  you  !  " 

"  What  ?  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Tiverton,  aghast.  "  Love  and 
respect  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Aunt  Julia — I  wish  to,  surely  ;  but  how  shall  I  if 
you  abuse  me  thus  ?  You  know  you  have  not  spoken  the 
'-uth  !" 

"Ellen!" 

"  You  know  you  have  not,"  continued  the  noble  girl,  not 
at  all  moved  by  the  woman's  startled  manner.  "  First, 
Constance  Milmer  is  not  such  a  woman  as  you  have  said. 
A  purer  minded  being,  or  one  with  a  soul  more  free  from 
evil,  I  never  saw.  Mind  you,  I  know  her  well — far  better 
than  you  can  possibly  know  her.  I  KNOW  !  And  then 
your  husband  !  Would  you  for  a  moment  cherish  the 
thought  that  any  charge  you  could  speak  could  make  me 
believe  him  false  ?  Oh  !  for  shame  !  for  shame  !  " 


*34  ORION,    THE   COLD  BEATER. 

Pale  as  death,  and  quivering  like  a  wind-tossed  reed,  the 
vanquished  woman  sank  back  in  her  seat.  She  gazed  for 
some  moments  upon  the  young  girl  in  silence.  Gradually 
the  color  of  life  came  back  to  her  face,  and  her  hands  were 
clenched  with  rage. 

"  Ungrateful  wretch  !  "  she  hissed.  "  Do  you  call  me  a 
liar  to  my  face  ? " 

"  Hush,  Aunt  Julia — " 

"  Don't  aunt  me,  you  mean,  dirty,  deceitful,  low-lived, 
two-faced  thing,  you  !  " 

Ellen  arose  from  her  seat. 

"  That's  right — go  !  For  the  love  of  heaven  go,  and 
don't  ever  let  me  see  your  hated  face  again  !  Oh  !  I  know 
you,  you  canting,  praying,  hypocritical  Pharisee  !  I  know 
how  you  set  yourself  up  as  a  pattern  of  virtue  ?  Thank  for- 
tune I  don't  live  by  being  better  than  other  folks  !  Go  ! 
don't  stop  !  " 

Faint,  dizzy,  and  frightened,  Ellen  hastened  from  the 
library  and  sought  her  own  chamber,  where  she  sank  down 
upon  her  bed  and  burst  into  tears.  But  she  did  not  allow 
the  emotion  to  remain  long  upon  her.  She  soon  reflected 
upon  what  had  passed,  and  when  she  came  to  remember 
that  she  had  done  nothing  more  than  stern  duty  demanded 
she  began  to  grow  calm,  and  ere  long  her  feelings  all  cen- 
tered upon  the  one  deep  emotion  of  pity  for  the  unfortunate 
woman  who  was  cursed  with  such  a  trying  disposition.  She 
resolved  that  she  would  say  nothing  of  this  to  Constance, 
and  that  the  poor  widow  should  still  find  in  her  a  true  and 
sympathizing  friend. 

Julia  Tiverton  started  to  her  feet  as  soon  as  Ellen  was 
gone,  and  for  some  time  she  remained  perfectly  motionless, 
with  her  hands  tightly  clenched,  and  her  head  thrown 
angrily  back.  She  stood  thus  when  the  door  that  opened 
from  the  hall  was  pushed  back,  and  Sarah  Johnson  entered. 

"  Well,  what  now  ?  "  the  mistress  uttered,  as  soon  as  she 
could  command  her  speech. 

"  Duffy  Glicker  is  here,  mem,"  the  girl  whispered,  having 
first  gazed  cautiously  around  to  assure  herself  that  she  and 
her  mistress  were  alone. 

"  Ha  !  "  uttered  the  hostess,  starting  into  new  life.  "  Here, 
did  you  say  ? " 

"  Yes'm.     Will  you  see  him  ? " 


THE  PLOTTERS  FOR  EVIL.  235 

"Yes.    Where  is  he?" 

"  In  the  kitchen.  Cook's  gone  to  the  baker's,  and  the 
rest  are  all  off." 

"  Then  bring  him  up  here  ;  and  mind — after  he  is  here 
do  you  stand  in  the  hall  to  see  that  no  one  comes." 

Sarah  said  "yes'm,"  and  then  left  the  library,  and  ere 
long  returned  with  our  old  friend,  Mr.  Duffy  Glicker,  in 
company.  The  villain  was  dressed  very  well,  but  Mrs. 
Tiverton  could  not  repress  the  shudder  that  crept  over  her 
as  she  saw  the  stout,  coarse,  brutal  form  and  features  of  the 
fellow. 

"I  s'pose  I  may  set  down,  marm,"  the  villain  said.  "  I 
walked  clear  'way  up  here,  an'  I'm  tired." 

"  Of  course,  sir,"  said  the  woman,  with  another  shudder 
at  the  sound  of  his  ugly  voice. 

As  soon  as  Glicker  was  safely  seated  Sarah  withdrew, 
and  Mrs.  Tiverton  was  alone  with  the  servant  she  had 
engaged.  She  gazed  into  the  man's  face,  but  she  could 
not  keep  it  up,  for  she  found  his  great  bloodshot  eyes  fixed 
steadily  upon  her.  The  silence  was  becoming  painful  when 
the  visitor  broke  it  by  the  laconic  remark  : 

"  You  sent  for  me." 

"Yes,  sir."  The  answer  was  low  and  tremulous,  for 
Mrs.  Tiverton  found  herself  not  so  easy  in  the  ruffian's 
presence  as  she  had  anticipated.  She  could  harbor  revenge, 
but  this  was  a  new  phase  to  her.  Yet  she  would  not  give 
up  now.  She  remembered  the  scene  which  had  transpired 
in  that  room  only  a  few  moments  before,  and  her  frame 
became  rigid,  and  her  eye  steady  even  before  the  gaze 
of  the  bad  man. 

*  P'r'aps  ye  had  some  business  wi'  me,  marm." 

1  Yes,  sir.     You  know  Constance  Milmer  ?  " 
)      '  Ah — the  young  widdy,  ye  mean  ?  " 

1  Yes." 

'  I  know  her  well,  marm.  She's  an  ungrateful  'ooman, 
marm.  I  offered  her  a  good  home,  and  she'll  beg  afore 
she'll  take  it." 

"  Would  you  like  to  have  her  back  again,  sir  ? " 

"  Wouldn't  I  ?  Ah,  ye  know  my  feelin's  as  well  as  I 
know  em  myself.  You'll  give  me  a  wife,  and  I'll  take  a 
troublesome  piece  of  baggage  off  'm  yer  hands." 

Mrs.  Tiverton  began  to  think  she  had  been  very  foolish. 


236  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

She  could  not  bear  this  man's  company.  She  might  just  as 
well  have  left  the  business  with  Sarah  to  do,  as  to  have  taken 
this  part  to  herself.  In  her  hot  haste  for  vengeance  she 
had  forgotten  herself.  She  had  chosen  this  interview 
because  she  imagined  that  her  plans  must  be  a  secret 
between  herself  and  this  villain  ;  but  know  she  saw  that 
Sarah  must  inevitably  know  it  all.  She  wished  she  had  not 
seen  the  wretch,  for  she  was  sure  that  she  could  not  bear 
up  through  the  scene.  She  did  not  care  for  that  poor 
young  woman  up-stairs  !  She  was  not  moved  by  any  sym- 
pathy for  her.  Ah,  no  !  She  only  abhorred  the  presence 
of  this  coarse  brute.  His  breath  soon  filled  the  narrow 
apartment  with  rank  fumes  of  tobacco  and  horrible  gin,  and 
his  ugly  look  frightened  her.  It  was  not  the  gentle  spirit 
that  moved  her  now.  It  was  the  base  coward  ! 

"  You  can  keep  a  secret,"  she  said,  trying  to  appear  calm. 

"  I  think  I  can,  marm.  But  ye  may  bet  yer  life  that  I'll 
keep  this  one/' 

"  Merciful  heavens  !  "  murmured  the  woman  to  herself, 
"  I  cannot  stand  this.  Me — Julia  Tiverton — in  such  com- 
pany !  "  And  then  she  said  aloud  : 

"  You  can  understand  all  the  rest  from  my  maid.  I  will 
confer  with  her,  and  she  will  see  you.  It  will  be  dark  in 
half  an  hour — " 

"  Yes,  marm — and  in  less  time." 

"  Never  mind.  In  half  an  hour  you  be  at  the  corner  on 
die  avenue  below  us,  and  on  this  side.  Sarah  will  come  to 
you." 

"  But  shall  I  have  the  'ooman,  marm  !  " 

"  You  shall." 

"Thank  you,  marm.  You  shall  never  have  cause  to 
repent  that  ye  guv  her  to  me.  She  might  'ave  fallen  into 
hands  where  she'd  a'  fared  wus." 

"  I  understand."  And  thus  speaking  the  hostess  arose 
and  opened  the  door  so  as  to  look  into  the  hall.  She  saw 
Sarah  and  called  her  in. 

"  Sarah,"  she  said,  "  get  this  man  out  some  way  so  that 
no  one  will  see  him.  He  will  be  on  the  corner  in  just  half 
an  hour.  You  won't  forget,  sir." 

"  No,  marm.     Let  me  alone  for  that." 

"  Then  show  him  out,  Sarah,  and  then  come  back  to  me 
at  once." 


THE  PLOTTERS  FOR  EVIL.  237 

As  soon  as  Mrs.  Tiverton  was  left  alone  she  sank  down 
upon  the  sofa,  and  a  long  pent-up  breath  escaped  from  her 
bosom. 

"  What  a  fool  I  was  !  "  she  uttered  to  herself.  "  Why 
need  I  have  seen  that  man  ?  There  was  no  need  of  it. 
Sarah  must  know  all.  /  Did  I  think  I  was  going  to  keep 
anything  from  her  ?  Oh,  fool !  " 

And  had  she  added  "Demon  !  "  she  would  have  told  the 
whole  truth. 

Ere  long  Sarah  returned,  and  when  she  had  closed  tHe 
door  behind  her,  her  mistress  motioned  her  to  a  seat. 

"  You  are  sure  that  man  may  be  trusted  ? "  she  said 
eagerly. 

«  Oh — yes'm  I  He's  snug  wi'  his  blab  as  a  bug  in 
a  rug." 

"For  mercy's  sake,  Sarah,  don't  use  such  vulgar  lan- 
guage." 

"But,  mem — what  can  be  safer  than  a  bug  in  a — " 

"  Stop,  I  tell  you.  Simply  say  he'll  be  safe.  That's 
enough." 

"  Well,  you  can  depend  upon  that,  mem." 

"  And  you  don't  think  he'll  tell  that  he  visited  here,  do 
you  ? " 

"  Oh,  he'll  be  mum  as  a  drum  without  a  head,  mem — 
depend  upon  that." 

"  He'll  be  silent,  you  mean,"  said  the  mistress,  moni- 
torially. 

"  Yes'm." 

"  Well,  now  we  must  contrive  some  means  to  get  that 
woman  out  of  the  house." 

"You  just  get  her  out  of  the  house,  and  under  my 
charge,  and  I'll  see  to  the  rest,"  returned  the  girl,  confi- 
dently. 

"That's  the  thing,"  murmured  the  mistress  thoughtfully. 

"  I  should  think  it  might  be  studied  up." 

"  See  if  you  can't  think  of  something,  Sarah." 

"  But  you'll  help,  if  it's  necessary,  mem  ?  " 

"  Of  course." 

"  Then  hold  on.  I  have  it.  It's  right  here,  like  a  flea 
under  yer  hand,  only  yer  afraid  he'll  hop  afore  ye  can  git 
t'other  hand  onto  him," 

Mrs,  Tiverton  scowled  at  this  vulgarism,  but  §be  said 


238  ORION,   THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

nothing,  for  she  would  not  interrupt  the  current  of  her 
helper's  thought. 

And  while  that  thought  was  working  its  way  through  the 
hireling's  mind,  and  the  base  mistress  sat  looking  on, 
eagerly  waiting  for  some  means  by  which  to  carry  out  her 
infernal  scheme,  the  poor  young  widow,  whose  fate  was 
thus  being  carved  out  in  evil,  was  upon  her  knees  thanking 
God  for  the  home  she  had  ! 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

THE    PLOT    IS   CONSUMMATED. 

CONSTANCE  had  put  her  child  to  bed,  and  had  knelt 
down  and  offered  up  her  thanks  for  the  blessings 
she  enjoyed.  She  sat  there  by  the  side  of  the  couch 
until  the  little  one  slept,  and  then  she  arose  and  took  up 
her  sewing  and  seated  herself  near  the  gas-light.  She  had 
been  thus  engaged  some  minutes  when  the  door  opened 
and  Mrs.  Tiverton  entered.  The  young  widow  was 
startled  at  first,  but  when  she  saw  that  the  hostess  was 
calm,  and  even  pleasant,  she  became  more  composed.  It 
was  the  first  time  that  woman  had  come  near  her  room 
since  she  came  to  the  house. 

"  Good  evening,  Mrs.  Milmer,"  the  visitor  said,  taking  a 
seat  where  her  face  came  into  the  shade  of  a  bureau. 

"  Good  evening,  ma'am,"  returned  the  widow,  with  a 
faint  smile. 

It  was  a  sweet  voice,  and  Mrs.  Tiverton  was  struck  by 
it.  And  then  that  pale  face  was  very  beautiful,  too.  The 
widow  was  yet  young — yet  in  her  youth — only  seven-and- 
twenty — and  the  deep  spirit  of  resignation  that  marked  her 
character  had  preserved  her  features  from  the  touch  of  that 
furrowing  hand  which  so  often  marks  the  face  of  the 
mourner.  The  hostess  gazed  for  some  time  into  that  sweet 
face,  and  once  she  almost  hesitated  in  the  work  she  had  on 
foot ;  but  as  the  faint  spark  of  sympathy  went  out  that  very 
beauty  sharpened  her  vengeance. 

"  I  suppose  you  will  do  some  sewing  for  me  ? "  Mrs.  Tiv- 
erton.said. 


THE  PLOT  IS  CONSUMMATED.  239 

"Certainly,  ma'am,  if  you  wish  it,"  returned  Constance, 
speaking  gladly,  for  she  thought  the  woman  was  going  to 
be  her  friend. 

"  And  would  you  have  any  objection  to  going  out  this 
evening  with  my  maid,  and  selecting  a  piece  of  fine  linen, 
and  also  a  piece  of  muslin." 

"  Not  at  all." 

"  Then  I  guess  I  shall  have  to  get  you  to  go  out.  Sarah 
knows  nothing  about  selecting  such  things,  and  I  suppose 
you  would." 

"  I  can  not  assure  you  that  you  will  be  suited,  ma'am  ; 
but  I  know  a  good  fabric  from  a  poor  one." 

"  Then  I  will  venture  the  rest.  I  want  a  piece  of  linen 
of  the  finest  texture  you  can  find,  and  also  a  very  fine  piece 
of  common  muslin.  I  will  give  Sarah  the  directions  for 
finding  it,  and  also  for  obtaining  it.  You  need  only  pick  it 
out.  Suppose  you  get  ready  at  once  and  come  down  into 
the  parlor.  Sarah  will  be  there." 

Constance  promised  to  be  ready  at  once,  and  the  hostess 
withdrew. 

Not  a  thought  of  evil  or  danger  passed  through  the  poor 
widow's  mind  as  she  prepared  for  her  mission.  •  She  felt 
pleased  to  think  that  the  woman  whom  she  had  thought  an 
enemy  was  coming  to  her  now  in  friendship,  and  she  even 
uttered  a  fervent  blessing  for  her  !  It  was  but  the  work  of 
a  few  moments  for  her  to  array  herself  for  the  walk,  and 
having  arranged  all  else  to  her  satisfaction  she  went  to  the 
bedside  and  kissed  her  child. 

"  Ah,  Lizzie,"  she  murmured,  as  she  brushed  away  a 
raven  ringlet  from  the  child's  face,  "  we  shall  be  happy  yet." 

When  she  reached  the  parlor  she  found  Sarah  there,  but 
not  the  mistress. 

"  Shall  we  see  the  lady  before  we  go  ?  "  she  asked. 

"No,  I've  got  all  the  orders,"  returned  the  girl.  "I 
know  everything  we've  got  to  get." 

"  Very  well.     I  am  ready." 

"  Then  let  us  go,"  said  Sarah,  at  the  same  time  opening 
the  door  and  passing  out  into  the  hall. 

"  When  they  reached  the  street  they  turned  towards 
Broadway.  As  they  reached  the  corner  of  the  second 
block  Sarah  asked  her  companion  if  she  thought  it  was  out 
of  character  for  a  female  to  whistle. 


64$  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATEtt. 

"  I'm  sure  I  couldn't  say,"  returned  Constance,  smiling. 
"I  have  heard  females  whistle,  and  I  never  thought  any 
harm  of  it." 

"  Nor  I  neither,"  resumed  the  girl.  "  Now  I've  got  a 
sister  that  thinks  it  is  a  dreadful  thing  for  a  girl  to  whistle. 
But  I  love  to  whistle." 

"  And  thereupon  Miss  Sarah  Johnson  commenced  to 
whistle  in  the  most  approved  style.  She  performed  "  The 
Irish  Washerwoman,"  with  a  shrillness  that  would  have 
done  credit  to  a  militia  fifer. 

"  Here  are  some  men  right  ahead, "whispered  Constance, 
pointing  to  the  corner  where  stood  a  coach,  and  two  men 
by  the  side  of  it. 

The  girl  seemed  to  take  the  hint,  for  she  stopped  whist- 
ling, and  said  she  wondered  if  those  men  heard  her. 

As  they  approached  the  coach  one  of  the  men  went 
around  upon  the  other  side  as  though  he  were  going  away, 
while  the  other,  who  seemed  to  be  the  driver,  mounted 
upon  his  seat.  As  they  came  alongside  of  the  vehicle  Sarah 
stopped. 

"Can  you  drive  us  down  to  Stewart's  ?  "  she  asked,  look- 
ing up  at  the  driver. 

"  Yes'm.     I'm  just  bound  down  Broadway." 

"  What'll  you  ask  to  carry  us  down  ?  " 

"  Two  shill'n's,  mum." 

"We  don't  want  to  ride,"  whispered  Constance. 

"  What  !  Walk  clear  way  down  to  Stewart's  ?  "  uttered 
Sarah,  almost  indignantly.  "  Why,  it's  three  miles  down 
there." 

"  O,  no — it  can't  be  much  over  a  mile." 

"  Jest  two  miles  an'  three  quarters  from  this  wery  spot," 
said  the  driver,  who  had  overheard  the  last  remark. 

"  Mistress  gave  me  the  money  to  pay  for  our  ride,"  pur- 
sued Sarah,  "  and  we  must  do  it.  Stewart  just  shuts  up  in 
half  an  hour,  and  we'll  be  in  a  pretty  mess  to  go  home 
without  the  things.  She  knew  we  couldn't  reach  there  by 
walkin' !  " 

By  this  time  the  driver  had  leaped  down  from  his  seat 
and  thrown  open  the  door. 

"  Come,"  he  cried,  "  In  ye  go,  and  I'll  take  ye  down  t« 
Stewart's  jest  in  fifteen  minutes." 


THE  PLOT  IS  CONSUMMATED.  241 

"  Get  in,"  said  Sarah,  taking  her  companion  by  the  arm 
and  leading  her  towards  the  open  door. 

There  was  a  vague  fear  creeping  through  the  widow's 
mind,  but  she  dared  not  refuse  now.  As  she  started 
towards  the  coach,  with  the  girl's  hand  upon  her  arm,  her 
first  impulse  was  to  have  Sarah  get  in  first ;  but  she  tried 
to  laugh  at  her  own  fears,  and  with  the  firm  resolve  that 
she  would  allow  no  more  such  suspicions  to  enter  her  mind, 
she  placed  her  foot  upon  the  step  and  leaped  lightly  into 
the  carriage.  She  knew  that  some  one  got  in  immediately 
behind  her,  and  that  the  door  was  closed.  She  gathered 
up  her  dress,  and  then  said  : 

"  Let  us  have  those  windows  down.     It's  close  and  sti — " 

The  word  ended  in  a  quick,  sharp  cry,  for  she  found  a 
stout  man  by  her  side  ! 

"Don't  make  a  noise,  darlin'.     Nobody'll  hurt  ye." 

Oh  !  it  was  Duffy  Clicker's  voice. 

"Help  !  help /— -Mercy  !—oh — mer — " 

"  Look  a-here,  my  peppermint — that  won't  do,"  the  vil- 
lain uttered,  clapping  his  broad  hand  over  the  woman's 
mouth.  "If  ye  go  for  to  make  such  a  fuss  ye'll  find  your- 
self in  trouble,  now  I  tell  ye  !  " 

Constance  would  have  to  cry  out  very  loudly  in  order 
to  make  herself  heard  above  the  harsh  rattle  of  the 
coach  wheels ;  and  she  feared  that  she  could  gain 
nothing  by  crying  out.  But  she  was  not  going  to  give  up 
thus. 

"  Let  me  go  !  Let  me  go,  sir  !  "  she  shrieked,  making  a 
spring  for  the  coach  door,  and  driving  her  whole  weight 
against  it.  But  it  was  fast  upon  the  outside,  and  she  could 
not  force  it  open. 

Clicker  caught  her  by  the  arm  to  draw  her  back,  but  she 
broke  from 'him  again,  and  cried  out  at  the  top  of  her  voice 
for  help.  Faster  and  faster  rattled  on  the  coach  ;  and  with 
a  fierce  oath  the  ruffian  grasped  the  poor  woman  and  threw 
her  down  upon  the  bottom  of  the  carriage.  With  another 
oath  he  placed  his  hand  over  her  mouth.  She  struggled 
with  all  her  might,  but  she  could  not  move. 

"  I  guess  ye'll  find  it  hard  work  to  yell  any  more  ! "  the 
villain  gasped,  with  a  whole  volley  of  oaths.  "  I've  got  ye 
now,  and  I'll  keep  ye.  Oh — that's  right  !  Fuss  away,  you 
mad  cat !  I  guess  I  ken  hold  ye  ',  " 


242  ORION,    THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

"  Oh  !  let  me  up  !  "  groaned  the  poor  woman,  in  painful 
accents.  "  I  shall  die  down  here  !  " 

"  But  will  ye  keep  quiet  if  I  do  ?  " 

"  Yes — yes — Oh,  let  me  up  !     I  am  smothering/' 

dicker  loosened  his  hold,  and  then  lifted  the  woman  to  a 
seat  by  his  side. 

"  Oh  !  sir  !  "  she  implored,  with  her  hands  clasped,  and 
her  hair  floating  wildly  over  her  shoulders,  "  let  me  go  !  let 
me  go  !  You-will  not  take  me  away  !  Carry  me  back  to 
my  ctyld  !  Oh,  my  child  !  my  child  !  " 

u  Yer  child  shall  be  fetched  to  you  this  very  night  ;  so 
don't  worry  about  that/' 

By  this  time  Constance  had  overcome  the  first  wild, 
astounding  shock,  and  she  began  to  think  how  she  had 
been  led  into  this  trap.  Of  course  Mrs.  Tiverton  had  done 
it !  The  thought  was  dreadful  ;  but  it  was  true.  She 
knew  that  the  proud  woman  had  betrayed  her  into  the 
hands  of  this  wretch.  This  assurance  came  with  a  weaken- 
ing power,  and  she  burst  into  tears.  She  could  not  see 
whither  she  was  being  carried,  nor  had  she  yet  thought  of 
that.  She  only  thought  of  the  child  she  had  left  behind, 
and  of  the  terrible  doom  which  awaited  her  ! 

At  the  end  of  half  an  hour  the  coach  stopped,  and  when 
the  door  was  opened  Duffy  Glicker  got  out.  He  then 
reached  in  and  gave  his  hand  to  Constance,  but  as  she  hes- 
itated to  take  it  he  caught  her  by  the  arm,  and  the  force  of 
his  grip  plainly  indicated  that  he  meant  to  hold  her  against 
the  possibility  of  escape. 

"  Come,"  he  said.     "  Here  we  be." 

She  got  out,  and  as  she  did  so  her  first  impulse  was  to 
cry  out  for  help  ;  but  ere  she  did  so  she  cast  her  eyes  about 
her.  The  place  was  a  dismal  filthy  one,  and  very  narrow. 
It  was  a  sort  of  court,  with  old  houses  on  .both  sides,  and 
ending  against  a  low  pile  of  tumble-down,  fence-like  struc- 
tures. She  turned  her  eyes  in  the  opposite  direction,  and 
after  a  moment's  look  she  started  back  with  terror.  She 
could  not  be  mistaken.  She  was  in  that  terrible,  sunken 
locality,  that  bottomless  pit  of  sin  and  shame — Cow  BAY  ! 
Directly  before  her  were  the  JFive  Points •,  and  she  could 
see  by  the  dim  light,  only  a  few  rods  distant,  those  old 
wooden  steps  up  which  she  had  once  been  obliged  to  climb 
in  order  to  reach  her  home. 


THE  PLOT  IS  CONSUMMATED.  243 

Oh,  what  a  moment  of  agony  was  that !  The  presence 
of  a  horrible  death  would  have  been  a  joy  in  comparison. 
But  she  had  not  long  for  gazing  about.  With  a  rough  jerk 
the  villain  drew  her  towards  an  open-doorway,  and  she  soon 
found  herself  in  a  dark,  fulsome  hall.  The  building  was 
upon  the  right  hand,  and  about  half-way  up  from  Anthony 
Street.  In  a  few  moments  an  old  woman  appeared  with  a 
candle,  and  at  a  word  from  Glicker  she  led  the  way  up  the 
narrow,  dirty  stairs. 

"  Come,"  said  the  wretch,  giving  Constance  another  pull, 
"We'll  find  a  stoppin'-place  up  here  somewhere." 

The  poor  woman  had  thought  of  breaking  away  if  she 
could  gain  the  opportunity,  but  her  conductor  was  on  the 
alert  for  that.  He  held  her  with  a  tight  grip,  never  relax- 
ing it  until  he  reached  the  room  where  he  meant  to  leave 
her.  This  apartment  was  on  the  third  floor,  and  had  been 
reached  by  passing  several  narrow  corridors.  It  was  in  the 
back  part  of  the  building — a  small  low-posted  place  ;  dirty 
and  grim  ;  with  a  filthy  looking  bed  on  one  side,  which  oc- 
cupied more  than  two-thirds  of  all  the  space,  and  only  one 
window,  a  square  six-lighted  aperture,  partly  shielded  with 
glass  and  partly  with  old  clothes. 

"  There,"  uttered  Glicker,  as  he  closed  the  door  of  this 
room  behind  him,  "  I  thought  I'd  jest  give  ye  a  try  here. 
Ye  might  have  had  a  better  place,  only  ye  didn't  seem 
quite  thankful  enough  for  the  other  one.  I  guess  ye'll  find 
some  tuggin*  afore  ye  git  out  o'  this — now  mind  that.  But 
ye  won't  be  hurt,  and  ye'll  have  plenty  to  eat.  Good-bye." 

"  Hold  !— stop  !     My  child  !     Oh,  you  said—" 

"  She'll  be  here  afore  long.  Never  fear  for  her.  And 
ye'll  see  me  again  afore  long,  too.  Good-bye." 

In  a  minute  more  the  poor  woman  was  alone.  No — not 
wholly  alone — for  as  she  sank  down  upon  the  rickety,  dirty 
bed  she  found  herself  surrounded  by  vermin.  Oh,  it  was 
horrible — horrible  enough  in  the  suffering — too  horrible  to 
tell! 


Little  Lizzie  was  aroused  from  a  deep  sleep,  and  the  first 
word  upon  her  lips  was  "Mamma"  But  no  mamma  was 
near  her.  It  was  Sarah  Johnson  who  awoke  her. 

"  Lizzie,  Lizzie  !     Come — your  mother  wants  you." 


244  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

"  Where  is  my  mamma  ?  "  the  child  asked,  starting  up  and 
gazing  wildly  about  her. 

"  Get  up  and  be  dressed,  and  I'll  tell  you.  Come. 
Don't  be  afraid.  You'll  see  your  mamma  pretty  soon." 

Lizzie  glided  from  her  bed,  and  as  soon  as  she  could  be 
made  to  understand  she  was  informed  that  her  mother  had 
gone  out  and  found  a  friend  for  whom  she  was  going  to 
work. 

"  You  know  Mrs.  Tiverton  don't  love  your  mother," 
added  Sarah  very  confidentially. 

"  Oh — I  know  she  don't,"  replied  the  child,  feelingly. 
"  But  I  should  think  she  might,  for  my  mamma  is  a  good 
woman." 

"  I  know  that,"  added  Sarah,  sympathetically  ;  "  but  then 
she  will  never  love  her  ;  and  so  your  mamma  has  found  a 
new  home,  where  she  is  going  to  live  and  be  very  happy." 

"  But  why  didn't  she  take  me  with  her  ? " 

"  Because  she  didn't  know  when  she  went  away  that  she 
should  stop. — ('  That's  true,'  the  girl  muttered  to  herself.) 
— But  she  asked  to  have  you  sent  to  her,  and  she  was  prom- 
ised that  you  should  be. — ('  And  that  must  be  true,  too.') 
— So  I  thought  I  would  come  and  get  you." 

"  Did  she  ask  you  to  bring  me  to  her  ?  " 

"  Yes,  little  darling  ;  and  I  promised  that  I  would." 
This  was  not  exactly  true. 

"I  should  have  thought  she  might  have  come  for  me 
herself." 

"  But  you  wouldn't  have  your  poor  mother  come  when 
she  was  very  tired  and  weak." 

"  Oh,  no." 

"  Well — she  was.  But  her  good  friend  will  have  a  carriage 
for  you." 

Lizzie  made  no  objections  to  getting  ready,  and  ere  long 
she  suffered  Sarah  to  lead  her  from  the  room.  When  they 
reached  the  street  they  saw  a  coach  standing  at  the  corner 
of  the  avenue,  and  towards  this  they  went.  Sarah  asked 
the  driver  if  he  was  the  one  who  had  been  sent  to  bring  the 
little  girl  to  her  mother,  and  he  answered  that  he  was. 

"  Then  jump  right  in,  my  darling,"  said  the  maid  ;  and 
as  she  spoke  she  lifted  the  little  one  into  the  coach. 

"  There — now  be  a  good  girl,  and  this  good  man  will 
carry  you  right  to  where  your  mother  is," 


LOVE'S  BATTLE,  245 

Lizzie  promised  that  she  would  be  very  good,  and  then 
the  coach  door  was  closed.  The  windows  were  fastened 
up,  and  all  made  snug,  so  that  the  tiny  passenger  could  by 
no  manner  of  means/0//  out,  and  then  the  horses  started. 

When  the  coach  reached  the  old  house  in  Cow  Bay,  and 
the  door  was  opened,  Lizzie  was  found  to  be  asleep.  Duffy 
Glicker  was  at  hand,  and  taking  the  little  one  in  his  arms 
he  bore  her  up  the  dark  stairs.  She  awoke  on  the  way,  and 
cried  out  with  fear  when  she  found  herself  being  carried 
through  such  a  dark  place.  But  the  man  did  not  speak. 
When  he  reached  the  door  of  the  room  where  he  had  left 
the  widow  he  held  the  child  by  one  hand,  while  with  the 
other  he  turned  the  heavy  key,  and  in  a  moment  more  he 
passed  in. 

<-  There,  my  dear— I  told  ye  I'd  fetch  her." 

This  was  all  the  villain  said,  and  having  thus  spoken  he 
turned  and  left  the  room. 

For  some  moments  Lizzie  gazed  around  upon  the  place 
in  silence.  Her  breath,  even,  seemed  suspended.  A  tal- 
low candle  burned  upon  the  little  old  table,  and  its  dim, 
sickly  rays  struggled  into  all  parts  of  the  narrow  place. 
She  stood  in  the  center  of  the  unoccupied  space,  and  when 
she  had  seen  all  she  bounded  forward,  and  with  a  deep 
groan  sank  upon  her  mother's  bosom. 

Neither  of  them  could  speak,  for  neither  wished  to  give 
utterance  to  the  deep  anguish  that  moved  within.  They 
could  only  cling  more  closely  to  each  other's  bosoms,  and 
weep  and  sob,  and  silently  pray  ! 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

LOVE'S    BATTLE. 

WHILE  Constance   Milmer  was  being  dragged  away 
from    the  asylum  which    friendship    had    furnished, 
Orion  Lindell  sat  in  the  parlor  of  his  mother's  dwell- 
ing buried  in  deep  thought. 

"You  are  foolish,  very  foolish,  my  son,  to  cherish  these 
feelings.  I  would  either  have  the  matter  cleared  up  ;  and 
that,  too,  by  my  own  energy,  or  I  should  cast  the  thought 


246  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

from  me  at  once.  I  do  not  believe  Ellen  Durand  ever  sent 
the  messages  you  received." 

The  youth  gazed  up  as  his  mother  thus  spoke,  and  in  a 
doubting  tone  he  said  : 

"  I  know  that  Ellen  must  have  been  at  home  when  I  called, 
and  surely  none  other  would  dare  to  send  me  such  a  message. 
Do  you  suppose  that  any  one  else  in  that  house  would  dare 
thus  repeatedly  to  answer  for  her  ?  You  must  be  aware 
that  when  a  person  in  these  upper  walks  of  life  wishes  not 
to  be  seen,  she  simply  says,  *  Not  at  home.'  ' 

"  I  know  it,  Orion  ;  but  under  these  circumstances  you 
have  a  right  to  see  Ellen  Durand.  And  as  God  lives  and 
reigns  I  do  not  believe  that  she  knows  you  have  been  to 
see  her/' 

"  Do  you  think  so,  mother  ?  " 

"  I  know  it !  "  was  the  parent's  prompt  reply.  "  Go  there 
at  once.  Demand  to  see  Miss  Durand.  If  they  tell  you 
she  is  not  at  home,  inform  them  that  you  know  better.  If 
they  tell  you  you  cannot  see  her,  make  your  way  boldly  to 
the  parlor,  and  tell  them  there  you  stay  until  you  see  the 
young  lady  !  I  know  Ellen  too  well  to  believe  this.  The 
woman  who  could  go  for  long  weeks  without  once  visiting 
her  because  she  was  beneath  the  roof  of  the  humble  would 
not  hesitate  to  turn  a  member  of  the  hated  household  from 
her  door.  Go — go — and  demand  your  right.  Return  not 
to  me  until  you  have  seen  Ellen  Durand  !  " 

Any  one  who  had  seen  the  mother,  and  heard  her,  as  she 
thus  spoke,  would  have  wondered  no  more  that  the  son  was 
high-spirited  and  bold. 

"  I  will  go,"  he  said. 

"  Ay — at  once,  my  son.  Mind  you — I  say  not  that  Ellen 
Durand  will  accept  your  hand  now  that  she  is  free.  She 
may  have  done  that,  as  many  would  have  done  it  under  like 
circumstances,  to  please  a  dying  loved  one.  But  see  her, 
and  satisfy  yourself.  I  cannot  bear  to  see  you  thus  any 
more." 

Orion  spoke  not  another  word,  but  arising  from  his  chair 
he  imprinted  a  kiss  upon  his  mother's  cheek,  and  then 
passed  out  into  the  hall,  where  he  put  on  his  hat  and  over- 
coat. In  a  few  moments  more  he  was  in  a  stage  riding 
down  Broadway.  At  the  corner  of  Fourteenth  Street  he  got 
out,  and  with  quick,  firm  steps  he  walked  to  the  merchant's 


LOVE'S  BATTLE.  247 

house.  It  was  not  far  from  eight  o'clock  ;  the  air  was  clear 
and  cold,  and  the  stars  bright.  He  hesitated  a  moment  at  the 
foot  of  the  brown  stone  steps,  but  it  was  not  from  any  disposi- 
tion to  give  up  the  work  he  had  started  to  do — it  was  only  to 
gather  his  senses  more  firmly  upon  the  single  point  he  had 
first  to  overcome,  and  to  quell  a  slight  trepidation  that 
would  agitate  his  bosom. 

With  a  firm  step  he  ascended  to  the  door  and  rang  the 
bell.  The  summons  was  answered  by  one  of  the  kitchen 
girls. 

"  I  would  like  to  see  Miss  Ellen  Durand,"  the  youth  said. 

"  She  is  not  in,  sir."  This  answer  was  given  with  a  pal- 
pable effort. 

"  Are  you  sure  ? "  asked  Orion,  looking  sternly  into  the 
girl's  face. 

"  Why — ov  coorse  I  be." 

"Look  ye,  Miss  Durand  must  be  in." 

"  No,  sir." 

"  When  did  she  leave  ? " 

"  She  went— I — a — don't  know — didn't  see  her." 

At  this  point  the  youth  pushed  the  servant  back  and 
stepped  boldly  into  the  hall. 

"  Now  go  and  tell  Miss.  Durand  that  I  am  here  !  "  he  said 
in  a  commanding  tone.  "  I  must  see  her — a  human  life 
may  depend  upon  it.  Will  you  call  her  ?  " 

"  I'll  go  an'  call  me  misthress,  ye  dirthy  blackguard,  ye  !  " 
the  indignant  domestic  replied,  slamming  to  the  front  door 
and  sailing  away. 

Orion  stood  in  the  hall,  awaiting  the  appearance  of  the 
hostess,  or  whomsoever  might  come,  when  the  door  of  the 
library  opened,  and  Thomas  Hartly,  the  coachman,  came 
out  with  a  heavy  bundle  under  his  arm.  This  man  not  only 
knew  the  gold-beater,  but  he  also  knew  how  much  his  mas- 
ter respected  him,  and  how  brave  and  stout  of  heart  he  was. 
Like  all  others  of  his  class  he  felt  a  peculiar  reverence  for 
the  man  of  good  disposition  whose  physical  prowess  was 
superior. 

"  Thomas,"  said  our  hero,  the  moment  the  cpachman 
made  his  appearance,  "  do  you  know  if  Miss  Durand  is  in  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  You  are  sure  of  it,  are  you  ?  " 

w  Why?  sir,  she's  in  the  library  at  this  blessed 


248  ORION,  THE  GOLD  BEA  TER. 

and,"  pursued  the  accommodating  fellow,  casting  his  eyes 
quickly  and  furtively  about  him,  and  at  the  same  time  low- 
ering his  voice  to  a  whisper,  "  I  think  she's  writin'  a  letter 
to  you.  But  I  mustn't  stop,  for  I've  got  to  get  the  nine 
o'clock  train  for  Newark." 

"  Is  Mr.  Tiverton  there  ? " 

"  He  will  be  in  the  morning." 

And  with  this  Thomas  disappeared.  The  youth  hesi- 
tated for  a  few  moments,  for  he  was  not  sure  about  the 
propriety  of  appearing  in  Ellen's  presence  unannounced. 
She  was  writing  a  letter  to  him  !  Perhaps  she  was  inform- 
ing him  that  he  need  not  call  for  her  any  more.  It  could 
not  be  possible  that  the  very  kitchen  girls  would  thus  dare 
to  deny  her  presence  if  she  did  not  countenance  it.  His 
first  impulse  was  to  proceed  at  once  to  the  library  door  and 
knock.  But  upon  reflection  he  hesitated.  If  her  letter — 
and  that  she  was  writing  one  to  him  he  took  for  granted — 
contained  a  request  for  him  to  discontinue  his  visits,  then 
he  would  not  wish  to  see  her  now  ;  but  if,  on  the  contrary, 
it  was  favorable,  he  would  call  again. 

But  his  ponderings  were  brought  to  a  termination  by  the 
appearance  of  Mrs.  Tiverton  coming  down  the  front  stairs. 
He  moved  back  a  step  towards  the  door,  and  there  calmly 
awaited  the  woman's  approach.  He  could  see  by  the  strong 
light  of  the  hall  chandelier  that  her  face  was  pale  and 
strongly  worked  upon  by  passion. 

"  What  do  you  want  here,  sir  ?  "  she  abruptly  asked,  as 
she  reached  the  hall  floor. 

"  I  came  to  see  Miss  Durand,  ma'am,"  replied  Orion, 
with  perfect  calmness  and  politeness. 

"  And  did  not  the  servant  tell  you  she  was  not  at  home  ? " 

Mrs.  Tiverton  had  not  the  slightest  suspicion  that  Ellen 
was  in  the  library,  or  she  would  not  have  spoken  so  loudly. 

"  She  did  tell  me  that  Miss  Durand  was  not  in,  but  I 
feared  she  might  be  mistaken." 

"  You  did,  did  you  ?  "  uttered  the  hostess,  with  mingled 
anger  and  contempt.  "You  are  making  yourself  very  free 
to  come  into  a  gentleman's  house  and  assume  control  over 
its  inmates  !  Do  you  imagine  that  I  bring  up  my  servants 
to  lie  ? " 

"  I  did  not  imagine  anything,  madam  !  "  Orion,  with  as 
little  of  bitterness  as  lie  could  possibly  display,  "  I 


BATTLE.  249 

thus  been  refused  admittance  four  times,  and  I  did  not 
think  it  possible  that  one  who  was  barely  convalescent 
would  be  away  so  much." 

"  Oh,  you  didn't,  eh  ?  "  retorted  Mrs  Tiverton,  with  more 
of  sarcasm  than  she  had  before  shown.  "You  thought 
you'd  force  yourself  upon  the  young  lady,  did  you.  You 
could  not  take  a  hint.  You  want  a  kick.  Must  a  sensitive, 
proud-spirited  girl,  of  high  standing,  be  forced  to  herd  with 
clowns  simply  because  circumstances  beyond  her  control 
threw  her  upon  their  care  for  a  while  ?  If  she  wishes  to  be 
rid  of  your  presence  must  she  be  forced  to  meet  you 
face  to  face,  and  tell  you  so  ?  She  has  some  feeling, 
and  does  not  wish  to  have  the  task  imposed  upon  her 
of  directly  sending  away  one  to  whom  she  may  owe 
something  of  gratitude.  Do  not  turn  that  gratitude  to 
hate  ? " 

"Then  she  does  not  wish  to  see  me,"  said  the  youth  in  a 
tremulous,  fearful  tone  ;  for  he  could  not  even  suspect  that 
the  fashionable,  proud  woman  before  him  would  tell  a  base 
falsehood. 

"  Of  course  she  does  not.  She  will  send  you  the  pay  for 
your  services,  but — " 

"  Stop,  madam  !  "  gasped  the  now  stricken  youth,  strug- 
gling with  all  his  might  to  hide  the  wild  anguish  that  had 
fallen  upon  him.  "  Say  no  more.  Be  assured  I  never 
would  have  come  here  had  I  dreamed  of  this.  Tell  her  not 
to  send  us  money.  Tell  her  that  even  the  presence  of  death 
as  our  peril  would  not  induce  us  to  touch  it  !  Tell  her — 
tell  her — a — may  God  bless  her  ever — " 

With  this  last  sentence  bursting  in  spasmodic  tones  from 
his  lips,  he  turned  away.  He  had  reached  the  door,  and 
had  his  hand  upon  the  silver  knob,  when  he  heard  a  rushing, 
smothered  sound  behind  him,  and  his  name  pronounced  in 
quick,  frightened  tones.  He  turned  and  beheld  Ellen 
Durand  rushing  towards  him,  with  her  arms  outstretched, 
and  her  hair  floating  over  her  neck  and  shoulders. 

"  Orion  !  Orion  !  "  she  cried,  eagerly  but  faintly,  "  Stop 
stop — speak  with  me  !  Only  one  word — Orion  !  " 

For  a  few  moments  Mrs.  Tiverton  stood  like  one  para- 
lyzed, but  as  soon  as  she  could  command  herself  she  turned 
upon  Ellen,  and,  assuming  all  the  authority  of  an  angry 
mistress,  she  exclaimed  : 


250  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

"  Ellen,  go  to  your  room  at  once.  Not  one  word  here. 
Go  to  your  room,  I  say  !  " 

"Julia  Tiverton  !  "the  indignant  girl  returned,  her  dark 
eyes  flashing,  and  her  full  bosom  swelling  with  internal 
emotion,  "  I  have  been  an  unwilling  listener  to  your  re- 
marks, and  I  should  be  false  to  every  principle  of  honor 
and  integrity  did  I  allow  them  to  go  uncontradicted  !  " 

"  Ungrateful  girl  !  "  the  hostess  cried,  stamping  her  foot 
upon  the  floor,  "  either  go  to  your  room  or  leave  the  house  ! 
I  will  not  have  a  traitor  beneath  my  roof  !  Remember — I 
am  mistress  here/' 

"  But  you  would  not  prevent  me  from  speaking  with  a 
friend  ?  "  said  Ellen,  her  whole  tone  and  manner  changing 
as  she  spoke — her  indignation  disappearing,  and  a  look  of 
calm  resignation  taking  its  place. 

"  Not  a  word  with  this  fellow  in  my  house  !  "  the  woman 
answered,  not  quite  so  angrily,  but  with  more  of  high 
authority. 

"  Aunt  Julia,  you  would  not  turn  me  from  your  roof 
merely  because  I  persisted  in  speaking  with  one  to  whom  I 
owe  so  much  ? " 

Ellen  spoke  beseechingly,  with  her  hands  clasped,  and 
her  eyes  fixed  calmly  upon  the  woman  she  addressed.  Mrs. 
Tiverton  evidently  supposed  she  was  conquered,  for  she 
assumed  a  haughtiness  which  savored  strongly  of  conscious 
power. 

"  Go  to  your  room  at  once,  and  obey  me  as  you  ought, 
and  you  may  still  find  your  home  with  us.  But  trample 
upon  my  authority  in  the  least,  and  you  must  do  it  else- 
where." And  then  turning  to  Orion,  she  added  :  "  Mr. — a 
— what's-your  name,  you  can  leave  the  house  at  once,  sir." 

"  One  moment — stop  just  a  moment,"  interposed  Ellen  ; 
"  let  me  understand  you.  You  will  not  allow  me  to  have  a 
private  interview  with  this  gentleman  here  ?  " 

"  No.     I  hope  you  understand  how." 

"  I  do,"  the  fair  girl  replied,  calmly  and  with  dignity. 
And  then,  turning  to  the  youth,  she  continued  : 

"  Orion,  wait  for  me  a  few  moments.  I  will  get  my  hat 
and  mantle,  and  go  with  you.  I  know  your  mother's  roof 
will  shelter  me." 

Witd  these  words  the  noble  girl  started  up  the  stairs, 
leaving  Mrs.  Tiverton  like  one  thunderstruck.  The  hostess 


LO  VE  '5  BA  TTLE.  25 1 

had  miscalculated  the  maiden's  character.  She  had  not 
dreamed  of  the  firmness  and  power  that  dwelt  in  the  soul 
of  the  orphan.  In  her  immense  self-importance  she  had 
supposed  that  the  threat  to  turn  her  out  would  quell  her  at 
once.  As  soon  as  she  could  recover  herself  sufficiently,  she 
darted  up  after  the  offended  ward.  But  Ellen  Durand  had 
no  word  of  concession  to  speak. 

"  No,  Julia  Tiverton,"  she  said,  as  the  woman  urged  her 
to  stay,  "  not  for  all  you  possess  would  I  remain  here  for 
another  night !  Oh  !  I  did  not  dream  how  you  were  abus- 
ing the  confidence  I  reposed  in  you.  I  did  not — I  could 
not  believe  that  you  would  have  so  cruelly  imposed  upon 
me  !  No,  no — I  can  not  stay.  You  love  me  not.  Hold — 
for  the  sake  of  sacred  truth  do  not  profess  a  love  you  do 
not  feel.  I  am  not  happy  here." 

"But  your  guardian  will  be  very  angry,  Ellen." 

"  Not  when  he  knows  the  truth.  Adieu.  God  give  you 
all  mercy  and  love  !  " 

Julia  Tiverton  called  upon  the  fair  girl,  but  she  called  in 
vain.  Ellen  had  prepared  to  depart,  and  she  descended  to 
the  hall  at  once. 

"  Ellen  !  Ellen  !  do  not  leave  me  thus.  Your  guardian 
will  be  very  angry.  Come  back,  you  are  disgracing  your- 
self ! — Are  you  going  ?  Are  you  determined,  stubborn 
girl  ? — Then  go  ! — go  !  But  mind  you — you  never  put 
your  foot  in  this  house  again  !  " 

Orion  had  just  turned  to  the  door,  and  half  opened  it, 
when  the  bell  was  rung.  But  he  did  not  hesitate.  He 
threw  it  wide  open.  And  there,  upon  the  landing-step, 
stood  Doctor  Jasper  Thornton  !  " 

"  Ah,  Miss  Durand,"  the  new-comer  stammered,  "  are 
you  going  out  ?  " 

"I  am,  sir,"  the  fair  girl  replied,  instinctively  clutching 
Orion's  arm. 

This  caused  Thornton  to  look  into  her  companion's  face, 
and  a  vengeful,  savage  expression  tortured  his  features  as 
he  recognized  the  young  gold-beater.  He  had  cause  to 
both  fear  and  hate  that  youth.  For  some  moments  he  was 
wholly  unable  to  speak.  Thus  to  see  the  girl  whom  he 
hoped  to  win  for  a  wife  in  familiar  companionship  with  the 
man  who  best  knew  all  his  wickedness,  and  who  had  so 
promptly  thwarted  him  in  the  heaviest  scheme  of  gain 


252  ORlOtt,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

he  had  ever  planned,  was  galling  and  agonizing  in  the 
extreme. 

But  Ellen  stopped  not  for  further  remark.  With  a  slight 
movement  she  drew  Orion  away,  and  ere  long  they  were  in 
the  street.  With  quick  steps  they  hurried  on  to  Broadway, 
where  they  found  a  stage  all  ready  for  them.  There  were 
other  passengers  present,  so  they  spoke  not  a  word  until 
they  reached  their  destination. 

It  was  with  a  strangely  fluttering  heart  that  Orion  con- 
ducted Ellen  up  the  long  graveled  walk  ;  and  when  he  en- 
tered the  hall  he  met  his  mother.  For  a  moment  he  was 
undecided  how  to  act,  but  his  judgment  came  quickly  to  his 
assistance,  and  placing  his  hand  upon  his  parent's  arm,  he 
said,  in  a  low  whisper  : 

"  Mother,  Ellen  has  come  home  with  me.  Let  us  be 
alone  a  few  moments — only  a  few  moments.  I  have  not 
spoken  with  her  yet." 

Mrs.  Lindell  at  once  withdrew,  without  even  waiting  to 
welcome  the  fair  girl,  and  Orion  conducted  his  companion 
into  the  parlor,  where  the  gas  was  burning  dimly,  the  jet 
not  having  been  wholly  turned  on.  For  a  short  time  after 
they  had  been  seated  a  dead  silence  ensued.  But  the 
youth  was  not  long  in  resolving  upon  his  course. 

"  Ellen,"  he  said,  calmly,  but  with  some  tremulousness  in 
his  tone,  "  I  will  tell  you  plainly  and  frankly  why  I  came  to 
see  you  this  evening.  I  had  called  there  three  times  be- 
fore, but  the  only  answer  I  could  obtain  was,  that  you  were 
not  at  home.  This  evening  I  was  resolved  to  see  you,  for 
I  felt  sure  that  the  servants  had  lied  to  me.  You  will  not 
wonder  that  the  fear  came  to  me.  You  will  not  wonder 
that  the  fear  came  to  me — vaguely,  it  is  true — that  you 
might  know  of  the  fact.  And  yet  I  could  not  believe  it. 
You  heard  what  Mrs.  Tiverton  said.  Her  assertion  came 
nigh  fixing  the  dreadful  belief  in  my  mind.  But,  thank 
God  !  the  shaft  was  arrested  ere  it  sank  home." 

Here  the  youth  hesitated  a  while,  but  as  the  maiden  did 
not  speak,  he  went  on  : 

"  And  now  I  will  tell  you  the  object  of  my  visit.  You 
remember  the  scene  that  transpired  at  the  bedside  of  the 
dying  boy.  You  know  the  meaning  of  it.  I  know  your 
deep  love  for  that  angel  child.  I  know  you  would  rather 
have  lost  much  of  your  personal  comfort  than  to  have  seen 


LOVE'S  BATTLE.  253 

him  suffer.  Under  such  circumstances  there  may  have 
been  nothing  binding  in  all  that  has  passed  between  us. 
One  word  more  and  you  will  know  my  full  meaning.  At 
your  wish  we  stand  as  we  did  before  the  event  to  which  I 
have  alluded — with  no  bond,  no  pledge,  no  vow.  I  have 
now  told  you  all." 

For  some  seconds  after  the  youth  had  ceased  speaking, 
the  fair  girl  gazed  down  upon  the  floor  in  silence.  There 
was  a  glow  upon  her  cheek,  and  a  slight  tremulousness  in 
her  frame.  At  length  she  looked  up,  and  in  a  frank,  calm 
tone  she  said  : 

"  Ere  I  can  answer  you  I  must  know  your  own  feelings." 

"  And  do  you  ask  me  to  tell  them  ? " 

"Yes." 

"  Then,"  returned  the  young  man,  "  I  must  say  that  to 
lose  you — to  lose  the  fond  hopes  that  have  clustered  about 
my  deep,  abiding  love  for  you — would  be  like  tearing  out 
my  very  heart.  God  grant  that  the  blow  may  not  come. 
You  may  find  wealthier  suitors,  and  you  may  find  those  who 
can  carry  you  to  a  more  sumptuous  home  ;  but  you  can  not 
find  one  who  loves  you  more  fervently,  or  who  will  more 
faithfully  cherish  and  protect  you.  Now  answer  me  as  your 
own  heart  shall  dictate." 

"  Orion  Lindell,"  spoke  the  fair  girl,  tremblingly,  but 
with  a  noble,  generous  frankness,  "  I  did  love  poor  Con- 
rad, and  I  would  not  willingly  have  wounded  his  feelings  ; 
but  even  to  please  him  I  could  not  have  planted  a  dagger 
in  the  bosom  of  another.  And  you  wrong  that  boy's  mem- 
ory if  you  hold  the  thought  even,  that  he  could  have  done 
as  he  did  had  he  not  known  what  he  was  doing.  No,  no  ! 
ere  he  did  that  simple,  yet  important  deed,  he  knew  that  I 
loved  you  with  my  whole  soul,  and  with  my  whole  mind, 
and — and — that — " 

She  did  not  finish  the  sentence,  for  she  had  arisen  to  her 
feet  as  she  spoke,  and  Orion  had  done  the  same.  The 
youth  moved  forward  ;  he  opened  his  arms — a  joyous, 
happy  glow  beamed  upon  his  handsome  features — and,  in 
the  next  moment,  Ellen's  broken  utterances  was  swallowed 
up  in  a  low,  ecstatic  sob  of  joy,  as  she  sank  upon  his 
bosom. 

"  So  opens  the  bright  daytime  of  hope — so  rises  the  glori- 
ous sun  of  my  rnanhood  !  Qh,  Ellen,  EU§n— my 


254  ORION,    THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

sweet,  cherished  love,  God  give  me  strength  to  serve  him 
well  in  this  great  joy  !  " 

The  generous  girl  looked  up  through  her  happy  tears, 
and  in  broken  accents  she  murmured  : 

"  From  the  moment  when  first  I  heard  thy  name  I  have 
loved  thee  ;  and  since  that  hour  on  which  I  saw  thy  heart, 
and  mind,  and— I  will  own  it — thy  noble  face,  I  have  worn 
thine  image  next  my  heart,  with  such  emotions  as  she  alone 
can  feel  who  bears  in  her  bosom  a  love  which  no  fate  of 
earth  can  sunder." 

At  this  moment  the  door  opened,  and  Catherine  Lindell 
entered.  She  could  wait  no  longer.  She  had  seen  her 
beloved  boy  suffer  so  much  that  she  felt  eager  to  know  the 
result.  Ellen  was  the  first  to  speak.  With  outstretched 
arms  she  hastened  forward,  and  while  the  joyous  tears 
started  down  her  cheeks  afresh,  she  uttered  : 

"  Mother— dear  mother — oh  !  you  will  not  reject  a  daugh- 
ter who  loves  you  truly  and  well,  and  who,  if  she  lives,  will 
find  one  of  her  chiefest  joys  in  ministering  to  thy  peace  and 
comfort ! " 

"  Blessed  being  !  "  ejaculated  the  widow,  with  streaming 
eyes.  "  Oh,  I  am  happy  now  !  " 

A  few  moments  they  remained  clasped  in  each  other's 
arms,  and  then  the  mother  continued,  gazing  into  the  maid- 
en's face  : 

"  And  it  was  all  false,  dear  Ellen  ?  You  didn't  send  my 
boy  away?" 

"  Send  him  away,  mother  ?  Oh  !  if  you  could  know  how 
I  sorrowed  because  I  thought  he  did  not  come.  Ah — they 
were  very  cruel  to  deceive  us  so.  They  told  me  he  had 
not  come." 

But  there  was  no  more  sorrow  now.  In  all  the  great  city 
there  were  not  three  happier  beings.  Only  upon  the 
widow's  face  there  would  ever  and  anon  come  a  strange 
shade  as  she  saw  the  wilder  joy  of  the  youthful  pair  ;  and 
once  she  turned  away  her  face  to  hide  a  tear  which  was 
not  the  offspring  of  her  present  happiness. 


MORE  PLOTTING— BARTERED  SOULS.  255 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

MORE    PLOTTING. — BARTERED    SOULS. 

WE  left  Jasper  Thornton,  M.D.,  standing  in  the  hall 
with  Mrs.  Tiverton.  It  was  some  moments  after 
Orion  and  Ellen  had  gone  ere  either  of  them  spoke. 
Mrs.  Tiverton  seemed  too  much  moved  by  what  had  tran- 
spired to  turn  her  thoughts  at  once  to  another  topic,  while 
the  doctor  hesitated  because  he  feared  the  woman  might 
have  learned  of  his  shortcomings  ;  and  so  deeply  im- 
pressed was  he  with  this  fear  that  he  was  upon  the  point  of 
turning  away  in  silence,  and  he  would  have  gone  had  not 
the  hostess  detained  him. 

"  Mr.  Thornton,"  she  said,  with  traces  of  her  bitter  feel- 
ings still  upon  her  face  and  in  her  voice,  "  will  you  not  walk 
into  the  parlor  ?" 

"  Certainly,  madam,"  returned  the  doctor,  with  a  graceful 
bow,  and  a  most  expressive  smile. 

After  they  had  reached  the  parlor,  and  had  become 
seated,  another  silence  ensued  which,  as  before,  was  broken 
by  madam. 

"  My  dear  friend,"  she  commenced,  "  you  have  this  even- 
ing witnessed  the  behavior  of  one  of  the  most  ungrateful 
girls  that  ever  lived." 

The  manner  and  tone  of  the  lady's  address  assured 
Thornton  that  she  either  knew  nothing  of  his  villainy,  or,  if 
she  did,  that  she  winked  at  it.  So  he  proceeded  with  his 
usual  amount  of  self-assurance. 

"I  have  witnessed  a  very  curious,  and,  to  me,  inexplica- 
ble scene,"  he  said.  "  What  does  it  mean  ? " 

"  Why,  sir — it  simply  means  this.  That  dolt  of  a  gold- 
beater— I  believe  that  his  business — at  all  events  he  is  a 
low,  grovelling  mechanic — came  here  to  visit  Miss  Durand 
— in  the  capacity  of  a  lover  !  Only  think  of  it  !  " 

"  Outrageous  ! '  responded  the  doctor. 

"Aye — he  comes  hereto  visit — at  my  house! — Oh,  the 
presuming  puppy  !  " 

"  Miserable  cur  !  "  chimed  Thornton. 

"  He  came  thinking,  I  suppose,  that  he  could  make  this 
house  the  scene  of  his  love-making  !  But  he  found  his 


25 6  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

mistake.  Had  he  come  to  visit  some  piece  of  baggage  in 
the  kitchen  I  might  not  have  minded  it,  but  to  have  such 
a  fellow  making  himself  at  home  in  my  parlors,  and  with  a 
member  of  my  family — it  was  a  little  too  much.  Why,  what 
would  people  have  said  ? " 

u  Sure  enough,"  uttered  the  visitor.  "  But  what  was  the 
meaning  of  Miss  Durand's  going  off  with  him  ? " 

"  Ah,  there's  the  pinch.  I  told  her  she  could  not  enter- 
tain the  fellow  in  my  house  ;  and  thereupon  she  told  the 
young  clown  to  wait  for  her  and  she  would  go  with  him  to 
his  own  home.  She  hurried  off  to  her  room  and  got  ready. 
I  followed  her  and  endeavored  to  explain  to  her  how  she 
was  bringing  disgrace  and  ruin  upon  herself,  but  she  would 
not  listen.  She  went  as  you  have  seen." 

"  And  do  you  think  she  really  loves  that  fellow  ? — that  she 
will  marry  him  ?  "  asked  Thornton. 

"  I  fear  so.  She  seems  to  be  perfectly  insane.  I  hope  it 
may  not  be  so.  And  yet  I  have  no  grounds  for  the  hope 
save  through  some  effort  by  other  parties." 

As  Mrs.  Tiverton  thus  spoke  she  looked  sharply  into  her 
companion's  face,  and  after  a  few  moments'  silence  she 
added : 

"  I  think  the  thing  might  be  stopped.  If  I  am  not  mis- 
taken you  cherish  some  love  for  the  girl  ?" 

"  Ah,  madam — a  deep  and  abiding  love." 

"  And  you  would  make  her  your  wife  ?  " 

"  My  whole  heart  is  hers  ;  and  my  only  hopes  of  happi- 
ness in  the  future  are  centered  upon  her.  If  I  lose  her  I 
lose  my  all." 

"  They  why  can  you  not  present  this  young  gold-beater 
to  her  in  some  light  that  may  shock  her  ?  Can  you  not 
pick  a  quarrel  with  him,  and  get  him  to  fight  you  ? " 

"  Perhaps  so,"  said  Thornton,  rather  dubiously. 

"  Look  ye,"  resumed  madam,  with  sudden  energy,  "  if 
you  can  in  any  way  get  rid  of  the  fellow  I  will  do  all  I  can 
towards  bestowing  Ellen's  fair  hand  upon  you.  Now  I 
should  suppose  you  might  set  your  wits  at  work." 

"  I  will,"  cried  the  scamp,  with  eagerness.  "I'll  have  him 
in  a  trap  from  which  he  cannot  escape  so  easily." 

"  Then  do  so  at  once,"  urged  Mrs.  Tiverton.  "  Let  not 
another  day  elapse  ere  you  have  concocted  some  plan." 

Thornton  bowed  his  head,  and  folded  his  hands  upon  his 


MORE  PLOTTING— BARTERED   SOULS.  257 

knees,  and  thus  he  remained  for  nearly  a  minute  in  pro- 
found thought.  When  he  raised  his  eyes  again  to  madam's 
face,  there  was  a  wicked  light  upon  his  sensual  features. 

"  I  have  it,"  he  said  with  an  emphatic  clap  of  the  hands, 
"  The  police  are  making  preparations  to  descend  upon  a 
notorious  house  of  shame  and  iniquity.  They  may  do  it 
to-morrow  night.  But,  at  all  events,  I  can  find  out  when 
they  will  do  it,  and  I  will  contrive  some  means  to  have  Mr. 
Orion  Lindell  there.  It  is  a  low,  degraded  place — the 
abode  of  thieves  and  gamblers,  but  mostly  inhabited  by  the 
sunken  and  lost  of  the  female  sex.  I  think  I  can  easily 
have  the  fellow  decoyed  to  that  place.  I  can  know  the 
exact  hour  on  which  the  police  will  make  their  descent — 
they  will  do  it  quite  early  in  the  evening,  before  the  thieves 
go  out  upon  their  midnight  labors — and  having  learned 
this  I  can  easily  have  the  rest  fixed." 

"  How  ? "  asked  madam. 

"  Why,  you  know  this  gold-beater  makes  great  pretense 
to  philanthropy,  and  I  shall  take  advantage  of  that.  I  can 
hire  one  of  those  females  to  waylay  him,  and  tell  him  a 
piteous  story  of  suffering  and  want — tell  him  about  a  dying 
husband  and  starving  children,  and  all  kind  of  stuff,  you 
know — and  you  may  be  assured  he'll  go  home  with  her  ; 
and  I'll  see  that  she  will  contrive  it  so  that  he  will  be  in 
her  chamber  just  about  the  time  the  police  come  upon  them. 
Let  him  be  caught  in  such  a  position,  and  all  his  explana- 
tions for  innocence  will  only  make  him  appear  the  more 
ridiculous." 

"  Excellent !  Excellent  !  "  said  Mrs.  Tiverton.  "  But 
tell  me,"  she  added,  rather  dubiously,  "  how  can  you  find 
one  of  those  females  ?  What  excuse  can  one  in  your  posi- 
tion make  for  seeking  such  a  place  ? " 

u  Ah — a — ahem — a — I  can  tell  them — you  see — I  can 
profess  that  I  have  been  sent  to  visit  some  sick  person.  I 
can  make  some  excuse." 

Mr.  Jasper  Thornton's  intimate  acquaintance  with  so 
many  of  that  class  rather  tended  to  embarrass  him  for  the 
moment,  but  the  lady  did  not  notice  anything  out  of  the 
way. 

At  this  point  the  door-bell  was  rung,  and  pretty  soon  one 
of  the  servants  opened  the  door  of  the  parlor  and  beckoned 
to  her  mistress.  Madam  at  once  arose  and  went  to  the  hall. 


25 8  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

"  The  count  and  his  friend  have  come/'  the  attendant 
whispered. 

"  Ah — show  them  into  the  library  at  once,  and  tell  them 
I  will  be  with  them  in  a  moment." 

As  Mrs.  Tiverton  thus  spoke  she  turned  again  towards 
the  doctor,  and  when  she  had  heard  the  library  door  close 
upon  her  new  visitors,  she  said  : 

"  Mr.  Thornton,  you  will  have  to  excuse  me,  but  I  wish 
to  hear  from  you  as  soon  as  you  have  made  a  step  towards 
the  consummation  so  devoutly  wished  for." 

"  Aye,"  returned  the  doctor,  with  a  smile  ;  "  and,  to 
quote  from  the  glorious  poet,  with  whose  genius  your  own 
remark  shows  you  to  be  familiar,  let  me  say — '  If  it  were 
done,  when  'tis  done,  then  'twere  well  it  were  done  quickly,' 
And,  now,  good  madam,  I'll  at  once  to  the  work.  This 
very  evening,  ere  I  sleep,  I'll  know  the  intended  movements 
of  the  police,  and  also  find  some  witty  Magdalen  who  will 
help  me." 

"  Do  so,  and  be  assured  that  you  shall  have  my  assistance 
for  the  rest." 

"  Thank  you.     Good  evening/7 

"  Good  evening,  sir.  I  shall  be  at  home  to  you  at  any 
time  between  the  hours  of  six  and  nine  in  the  evening." 

Mr.  Thornton  took  his  leave,  and  ere  long  afterwards  the 
Count  Adolphus  Gerald  Charlemagne  Gusterhausen,  and 
the  Prince  Bernardo  de  Tavora,  together  with  Isabella,  who 
had  joined  them  in  the  library,  met  the  hostess  in  the 
parlor.  After  a  few  words  of  greeting  and  a  few  passages 
upon  general  topics,  the  Count  and  Isabella  made  their 
way  to  the  back  parlor,  thus  leaving  the  Prince  and  Madam 
once  more  alone  together. 

We  will  not  transcribe  the  long  and  sickening  dialogue 
of  love  and  flattery  which  followed.  Mrs.  Tiverton  seemed 
to  be  entirely  fascinated  by  the  manner  and  conversation  of 
the  prince,  and  he  saw  very  plainly  that  she  was  as  soft 
as  \vax  in  his  hands.  Several  hours  had  worn  away,  and 
the  clock  was  upon  the  stroke  of  midnight.  Mrs.  Tivertcn 
and  her  companion  were  upon  one  of  the  small  tete-a-tetes — 
her  head  upon  his  shoulder,  and  his  arm  about  her  waist. 

"  My  dearest  love,"  whispered  de  Tavora,  "  how  shall  I 
live?  Oh  !  would  to  God  me  have  navare  seen  you  !  My 
heart  is  gone — my  soul  is  takeen  capteve,  Ah?  I  must  die 


MORE  PLOTTING— BARTERED   SOULS.  259 

in  torture  eef  you  no  have  compasshong  !     Oh  do  not  keel 
me — do  not  !  " 

"  Kill  you,  prince  !  Alas  ?  how  hard  a  fate  !  My  own 
life  is  as  worthless  without  you  !  " 

"  Then  why  not  live  ?    Why  not  keep  both  our  hearts,  me 
own  divinity  ? " 
Prince  ?  " 

I  mean — let  us  be  happee." 
Alas  !  how  ?  " 
Can  you  not  see  !  " 

Tell  me,"  murmured  madam,  hiding  her  face  upon  his 
bosom. 

"  Since  you  command  me  I  vil  speak  :  You  be  not  so 
tied  to  your  husband  but  'at  you  can  snap  te  bonds.  Go 
with  me  !  Oh  !  fly — fly  with  me  to  me  own  palace  on  th« 
Tiber,  or  to  me  other  palace  on  te  Arno.  Do.  Oh,  my 
soul's  mistress — me  heart's  enslaver — do  !  You  will  save 
me."  ' 

"  And  could  you  go  to  your  native  country  at  once  ?  " 
asked  madam  tremulously. 

"  Yes — yes — at  once — right  away.  Oh  !  come  !  Tell 
me  that  you  weel  be  mine  !  " 

"  I  must  think  of  it,  prince.  I  cannot  tell  you  af  once. 
Wait  till  another  time." 

"  But  will  you  tell  me  te  next  time  we  meet  ?  " 

«  Ye— yes— I  will." 

"  Oh,  bliss — bliss — bliss  !  I  know  you  will  not  kill  me — • 
I  know  you  will  not.  We  will  be  happee  yet." 

"  We  must  be,"  murmured  madam,  allowing  the  prince 
to  kiss  her  upon  the  cheek. 

"  I  may  have  to  send  on  to  my  banker  in  Rome  for 
money  to  bear  my  expenses.  I  have  given  so  much  in 
charity  since  I  have  been  here  that  I  have  nearly  emptied 
my  purse.  Ah — twenty  thousand  dollars  don't  go  a  great 
ways  when  you  let  your  charity  run  away  with  you.  How- 
ever— my  banker  will  send  it  on,  so  we  shan't  be  detained 
long." 

"  Dear  prince — say  nothing  more  on  that  topic.  I  have 
enough  ;  and  until  we  reach  your  palace  we  shall  have 
plenty  for  use.  Ah — that  is — if  I — oh,  prince  !  you  have 
wholly  enslaved  me." 

"  Blessed  creachur  !    Divine  Julia  !    We  will  be  happee  ! ' 


260  ORION,    THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

Mrs.  Tiverton  lifted  her  head  from  her  companion's 
shoulder,  for  she  heard  Isabella  coming.  A  few  minutes 
were  spent  in  a  sort  of  light,  playful  badinage,  and  then  the 
gentlemen  took  their  leave. 

"  Oh,  mother,"  uttered  Isabella  some  time  after  they  two 
were  left  alone,  "  I  must  give  the  count  my  hand  soon.  He 
can  not  wait;  nor  can  1.  He  wishes  to  be  married  at 
once." 

"  Well — then  let  it  be  so,"  returned  the  mother. 

"  But  father  ?  Oh,  what  a  blind  thing  he  is!  He  will 
not  consent  to  my  wedding  the  count.  He  is  prejudiced 
against  him." 

"  I  know  he  is,  my  darling.  But  let  that  make  no  differ- 
ence. You  have  my  consent,  and  if  I  can  not  control  my 
own  child  I'd  like  to  know  who  shall  ?  " 

"  Oh — I  love  the  count,  ma." 

"  And  well  you  may,  Bella.  He  is  a  fine  man,  ^nd  not 
only  has  wealth,  but  a  title." 

And  thus  the  poor,  foolish  creatures  were  selling  them- 
selves to  that  dark,  terrible  power  which  lies  in  wait  at  the 
doors  of  faithless  souls! 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

CLICKER  PLAYS  A  TRUMP,  AND  SHOWS  HIS  HAND;  BUT  IS 
SLIGHTLY  ASTONISHED  UPON  BEHOLDING  THE  HAND  OF 
HIS  ADVERSARY. 

ONE  long  dreary  night  did  poor  Constance  and  her  child 
pass  in  that  terrible  chamber.  They  could  not  sleep 
save  by  short  naps  caught  amid  pain  and  agony. 
Little  Lizzie  slept  the  most,  for  her  mother  folded  her  to 
her  bosom  and  kept  away  the  phlebotomizing  marauders. 
Shortly  after  midnight  the  light  went  out,  and  from  that 
time  the  agony  was  intense.  But  daylight  came  at  length, 
and  the  tiny  intruders  disappeared.  The  sun  arose,  and 
the  morning  hours  passed  away,  and  no  one  came  with 
food.  Yet  this  was  no  source  of  disappointment  at  present, 
for  neither  the  mother  nor  the  child  felt  any  appetite  for 
material  nourishment.  Their  souls  were  alone  an  hun- 
gered. 


GLICKER  PLA  KS  A   TRUMP,  AND  IT  IS  TAKEN.      261 

They  had  heard  a  distant  clock  strike  the  hour  up  to 
nine,  and  just  upon  the  stroke  of  the  latter  little  Lizzie,  all 
worn  and  fatigued,  threw  himself  upon  the  miserable  bed. 
As  she  did  so,  she  remarked  that  something  hard  under  the 
quilt  hurt  her.  Constance  went  to  remove  it,  and  making 
search  she  found  some  solid  substance  within  the  old,  dirty 
straw-tick.  She  placed  her  hand  within  the  aperture  which 
had  been  left  for  filling,  or  stirring  up  the  straw,  and  found 
two  solid,  heavy  substances.  She  drew  them  forth  and 
fould  them  to  be  a  five-barrelled  pistol  and  a  small  powder- 
flask  !  At  first  she  was  startled,  for  the  immediate  thought 
was,  that  Glicker  had  left  them  there  for  his  own  use;  but 
upon  reflection  she  saw  that  this  was  not  all  probable,  for 
he  would  not  have  left  them  in  the  place  of  all  others  where 
they  would  be  most  sure  to  find  them. 

The  pistol  was  one  of  Colt's  patent  "  revolvers/'  with  the 
single  barrel  and  five  chambers.  It  was  a  small  one  and  in 
excellent  order.  Upon  examining  the  flask  it  found  to 
contain  powder  at  one  end,  where  there  was  a  small  "  char- 
ger," and  at  the  other  end,  which  was  flat,  two  chambers, 
with  spring  covers,  in  one  of  which  were  bullets,  and  in  the 
other  percussion  caps. 

Mrs.  Milmer  understood  the  use  of  this,  for  her  husband 
once  owned  one  which  had  been  presented  to  him  by  a 
friend.  She  examined  the  weapon  thoroughly,  and  found 
the  chambers  all  charged  with  powder  and  ball.  She  could 
easily  see  the  bullets,  and  upon  removing  the  caps  she  saw 
the  powder  in  the  tubes. 

"  What  will  you  do  with  it,  mamma  ?  "  asked  Lizzie. 

Constance  started,  and  a  quick  tremor  shook  her  frame. 

"  I  will  keep  it !  "  she  whispered.  And  as  she  spoke 
she  thrust  it  away  beneath  the  bosom  of  her  dress,  and 
then  put  the  flask  in  her  pocket. 

She  suppposed  that  the  weapon  must  have  been  left  there 
by  some  lodger — perhaps  by  some  poor  fellow  who  had 
come  up  drunk,  and  hidden  his  pistol  so  carefully  that  when 
he  became  sober  he  could  not  find  it.  However,  that 
mattered  little  to  the  present  possessor.  She  had  found  it, 
and  with  her  eyes  raised  towards  heaven,  she  prayed  to 
God  that  she  might  preserve  her  honor  unsullied  ! 

The  hour  of  ten  had  been  struck — and  some  fifteen 
minutes  passed — when  the  mother  and  child  were  startled 


262  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATE&. 

by  the  sounds  of  footsteps  upon  the  stairs.  They  knew 
the  leading  step — the  step  of  him  who  came  in  advance — 
too  well. 

"It  is  he!"  moaned  Lizzie,  sinking  upon  her  mother's 
bosom. 

"  I  know  it,  my  child,"  the  parent  returned,  in  a  tone  of 
cold,  rigid  calmness.  It  was  the  voice  of  despair — the  ut- 
terance of  one  who  had  given  up  all  hope,  and  whose  soul 
held  only  one  firm  purpose.  "  I  know  it,"  she  repeated. 
"  It  is  Duffy  Glicker.  I  shall  ask  no  more  favors  at  his 
hands.  Let  him  come.  He  may  do  as  he  pleases  so  long 
as  he  only  fashions  suffering  and  vexation  for  the  body. 
But  beyond  that — O  God,  give  me  power  and  strength!  " 
She  instinctively  placed  her  hand  upon  her  bosom  as  she 
spoke — upon  the  spot  where  the  loaded  pistol  lay! 

In  a  moment  more  the  door  of  her  room  was  unbarred 
and  opened,  and  Duffy  Glicker  entered,  followed  by  Mr. 
Bill  Slumpkey  and  another  man  whose  face  had  one  of 
those  cold-blooded  looks  peculiar  to  a  certain  ciass  of 
lawyers  who  hover  about  the  "  Tombs,"  ready  to  filch 
from  any  poor  culprit  all  they  can  get,  They  are  to  our 
regular  attorneys  what  the  mock-auctioneer  is  to  the  com- 
mission merchant, — or  what  the  lowest  pawnbroker  is  to 
the  Wall-street  banker.  They  are  a  set  of  sharks  who  hang 
about  that  sea  of  moral  death  ever  ready  to  catch  the  first 
poor  victim  that  may  fall  into  their  hand.  They  force 
themselves  upon  the  unfortunate  male  or  female  who  may 
have  been  apprehended  for  petty  crime,  and  under  pledge 
of  legal  assistance  they  obtain  all  the  money  they  can,  and 
then  disappear  to  be  seen  no  more,  until  a  new  victim  is 
found. 

It  was  such  a  man  as  this  who  followed  Glicker  and 
Slumpkey  into  the  widow's  presence.  When  they  had  all 
three  entered,  Glicker  closed  the  door,  and  then  turned 
towards  his  victim.  His  face  wore  a  determined  look,  and 
the  most  casual  observer  would  have  seen  that  he  meant 
not  to  be  thwarted. 

"  Now,  my  dear  Constance,"  he  said,  with  a  peculiar 
mixture  of  ugliness,  firmness,  and  irony  in  his  tone;  "  I 
have  come  to  put  a  clincher  on  to  our  business.  This  man 
is  a  reg'lar  lawyer  and  justice,  and  his  word  is  just  as  good 
as  all  the  priests'  in  the  world.  He's  got  a  reg'lar  marriage 


CLICK ER  PLA  YS  A   TRUMP,  AND  IT  IS  TAKEN.      263 

certifiket,  and  he'll  put  us  through  in  short  order.  So  now 
just  stand  up  here  alongside  o'  me,  and  have  the  business 
done.  Come — we  wont  have  no  cryin'  nor  sniffin'  at  this 
heat.  We've  just  about  enough  o'  that  already." 

Constance  spoke  not  a  word  in  reply — only  she  whispered 
to  her  child  to  fear  not,  and  then  she  arose  and  stood  by 
Duffy  Clicker's  side. 

"  Eh  ?  "  uttered  the  brute,  gazing  into  her  calm,  pale 
face,  "  yu're  easy,  ain't  ye  !  Ye  mean  to  be  good  now, 
don't  ye  ?" 

"  I  must  obey  where  I  can  not  help  myself,"  she  replied 
firmly. 

"  By  the  big  boat,  but  she's  the  most  sensible  woman  I've 
seen  this  long  while,"  uttered  the  shark. 

"  She's  been  learnin'  of  me,"  said  Glicker.  "  But  come 
— go  ahead." 

Thus  appealed  to,  the  shark  advanced  and  drew  a  paper 
from  his  breast-pocket  which  proved  to  be  a  regular  form 
of  marriage  contract  duly  filled  up  and  signed  by  the  pro- 
per city  authority.  Having  read  it  the  lawyer  proceeded 
with  the  ceremony.  He  asked  Glicker  if  he  would  take 
"  this  woman  "  to  be  his  true  and  lawful  wife — if  he  would 
cleave  unto  her,  and  so  on — to  all  of  which  the  bridegroom 
unhesitatingly  responded — "  Yes." 

Next  the  same  questions  were  put  to  Constance,  and 
when  it  came  to  her  turn  to  answer  she  as  unhesitatingly 
answered,  "  /  will  not" 

"  Eh  ?  "  exclaimed  Shark. 

"  It  don't  make  no  difference,"  quickly  rejoined  Glicker. 
I  thought  you  know'd  women  better.  Don't  they  allers 
say  no  when  they  mean  yes  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  they  does.  I  forgot."  And  thereupon  he 
proceeded  with  the  ceremony,  and  in  a  very  few  moments 
he  gave  utterance  to  the  magic  words:  "I  now  pronounce 
you  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Glicker — Husband  and  Wife — married 
according  to  the  laws  of  the  State  !  " 

"  There,  you  beauty  !  "  cried  the  newly  made  husband, 
"  ain't  that  job  done  up  in  quick  order,  eh  ?  You  ain't 
Constance  Milmer,  no  more.  You're  Constance  Glicker^ 
now.  And  I  hope  you'll  behave  yourself  so  't  I  can  treat 
ye  kindly.  And  to  cornmenc^  with,  I'm  going  to  take  ye 
put  o'  this  ropm  and  put  ye  into  a  better  one— one  'at  I  hacl 


264  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

vacated  a  purpose  for  ye.  D'ye  mind  that  ?  Don't  I  begin 
to  show  that  I  can  take  care  of  a  good  wife  ? " 

"  Wife,  sir  ?  "  said  Constance,  calmly  and  coolly.  "  You 
know  I  am  not  your  wife." 

"  Well — you've  got  a  funny  way  of  lookin'  at  things,  I 
must  confess.  Haint  the  justice  just  made  us  man  and 
wife,  I'd  like  to  ask  ye  ?  " 

"  It  takes  two  to  make  that  bargain,  sir.  You  know  I 
am  not  your  wife.  I  shall  obey  you  in  all  things  becoming 
a  servant  while  you  hold  power  over  me  ;  but  you  will  not 
claim  any  of  the  duties  of  a  wife  at  my  hands  !  " 

"  Egad,  Duffy,"  whispered  the  shark,  at  the  same  time 
poking  the  brute  under  the  ribs  with  his  thumb,  "  I  reckon 
you've  got  a  tartar  there." 

"  We'll  see  !  "  uttered  Glicker,  with  an  oath,  as  he  saw 
both  the  shark  and  Slumpkey  smiling.  "  We'll  see  about 
that.  Here — here's  your  pay  for  this  job — and  I'm  much 
obliged.  Only  mind  you  this  :  If  Duffy  Glicker  's  '  got  a 
tartar,'  you  may  jest  make  up  your  mind  that  the  tartar's 
got  her  master." 

"  Oh — I  don't  doubt  that — good  bye." 

"  Good  bye,"  said  Glicker,  and  as  he  thus  spoke,  both 
the  shark  and  Bill  Slumpkey  left  the  room. 

"  Now,  my  dear,  what  d'ye  think  of  it  ?  "  the  villain  asked, 
turning  towards  Constance,  and  gazing  fixedly  into  her 
face. 

"  You  spoke  of  taking  me  to  a  better  room,  sir,"  she 
returned,  hiding  all  inward  emotion. 

"  Aye — but  not  if  you're  goin'  to  be  bad  again." 

"  If  I  cannot  use  my  tongue  what  shall  I  do  ?  "  the  widow 
laconically  replied. 

"  Sure  enough,"  said  Duffy,  who  was  somewhat  misled 
by  this  answer.  "  But  ye'd  better  be  keerful  who  ye  swing 
yer  tongue  afore.  Talk  to  me,  but  don't  never  show  any 
more  of  that  old  Adam  afore  others.  D'ye  mind  that  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I  guess  you'll  come  to  it  by  and  by-— so  you  may  f oiler 
me.  No — stop.  I  guess  I  may  as  well  take  yer  hand. 
There — now  come  along." 

Constance  gave  him  her  hand  without  hesitation,  and 
having  extended  the  other  to  her  child,  she  was  led  from 
the  room,  Glicker  descended  one  flight  of  stairs  to  the 


GLICKER  PL  A  VS  A   TRUMP,  AND  IT  IS  TAKEN.      265 

second  floor,  and  here  he  turned  towards  the  rear  of  the 
house,  and  finally  reached  a  chamber  which  was  quite 
respectable  for  the  place  in  which  it  was  located.  It  was  a 
square  room,  with  an  old  faded  carpet  upon  the  floor  ; 
paper  curtains  at  the  windows  ;  three  very  decent  chairs  ; 
a  wash-stand,  pitcher  and  bowl  ;  a  dressing-table  and  glass  ; 
and  a  very  comfortable  looking  bed. 

"  There,"  said  Duffy,  as  he  closed  the  door  of  this  room 
behind  him,  "  the  woman  as  has  lived  in  this  room  has  gone 
off  without  payin'  her  rent — so  the  landlady  told  me — and 
I've  took  it  for  a  little  while  ;  but  if  you're  good  you  won't 
have  to  stay  here  long  anyhow.  I'll  find  a  better  place.  I 
shouldn't  want  to  live  here  myself." 

Constance  hesitated  some  time  ere  she  made  a  reply  to 
this.  She  wished  much  to  know  what  was  the  secret  of  the 
paper  her  captor  held,  and  she  feared  that  if  she  allowed 
herself  to  make  him  angry  he  wouldn't  tell  her. 

"  Mr.  Glicker,"  she  said,  being  obliged  to  exercise  all  her 
powers  of  self-control  to  speak  the  words  she  had  planned 
to  speak,  without  betraying  her  deep  indignation,  "  now 
that  the  ceremony  has  been  performed,  I  suppose  you  have 
no  objections  to  telling  me,  or  showing  me,  what  is  in  that 
paper  you  have  so  often  spoken  to  me  about  ?  " 

<«Oh — no — I've  no  objections  now.  I'll  let  ye  see  the 
dockiment  if  ye'll  promise  to  let  me  have  it  back  jest  as 
safe  and  whole  as  I  give  it  to  ye." 

"  I  do  promise  it,  sir." 

"  But  '11  you  swear  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  returned  Constance,  eagerly,  "  I  swear  it  most 
solemnly.  Let  me  see  it,  and  when  I  have  read  it  you 
shall  have  it  back  as  safe  and  fair  as  when  I  took  it." 

"  Then  I'll  let  you  see  it,  my  dear.  It's  a  kind  of  a  funny 
thing,  and  '11  put  ye  in  mind  of  some  kind  o'  funny  idees. 
Here  it  is." 

As  the  fellow  spoke  he  took  from  his  breast-pocket  a 
brown  paper  parcel,  and  having  opened  it  he  drew  forth  a 
properly  folded  document  which  he  handed  to  Constance. 
She  took  it  with  a  trembling  hand,  and  having  unfolded  it 
she  glanced  her  eyes  hurriedly  over  its  face.  It  was  a 
fairly  written  thing,  drawn  up  by  an  attorney,  and  signed 
by  a  second  party.  It  contained  a  deposition,  sworn 
to  by  the  deponent,  witnessed  by  another,  and  given 


*66  ORION,    THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

under  the  hand  and  in  the  presence  of  a  duly  authorized 
justice. 

Constance  commenced  to  read  it.  For  a  few  moments 
only  an  eager  look  pervaded  her  features  ;  but  gradually 
she  grew  pale,  and  her  breath  seemed  hushed.  Suddenly 
she  gave  a  quick  start,  as  though  something  had  stung  her, 
and  with  a  low,  agonizing  cry  she  dropped  the  paper  and 
clasped  her  hand  over  her  eyes. 

"  Eh  ?  "  said  dicker,  stooping  and  taking  up  the  paper, 
"  What's  the  row  now  ?  Does  if  tetch  you  so  deep  ?  " 

Constance  gazed  up  with  a  pale,  frightened  look,  and  in 
a  fearful  tone  she  whispered — 

"  Oh  !     Is  that  true  ?  " 

"  Why — in  course  'tis." 

"  But  how  came  you  by  it  ?  " 

"  Wai — seein'  's  how  how  't  the  ceremony's  been  per- 
formed, I  don't  mind  tellin'  ye  the  whole  story.  Ye  see  in 
my  travels,  not  over  a  hundred  years  ago — and  may  be  not 
much  over  a  year  ago — I  came  'to  the  sweet,  pooty  little 
village  of  Willowdale.  I  s'pose  you  know  where  that  is  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  uttered  Constance,  breathlessly. 

"Wai — when  I  came  to  that  place  I  stopped  awhile. 
One  day  I  was  in  the  bar-room  of  the  tavern,  and  some  folks 
was  talkin'  about  Constance  Bertram.  One  man  said  the 
old  lawyer  had  a  paper  for  her.  I  think  he  said  a  poor 
widder,  named — a — 

"  Gilmore  ?  "  suggested  Constance. 

"  Ah — yes — that's  it.  Gilmore.  Yes.  He  said  a  woman 
named  Gilmore  left  it,  when  she  was  a-dyin',  with  the  old 
lawyer  for  Constance  Bertram  when  she  grow'd  up.  But 
she'd  grow'd  up  and  gone,  and  now  the  old  lawyer  wanted 
to  find  her  and  give  her  the  paper.  By'm  by  one  feller  says 
— '  The  gal  married  a  bookbinder  named  Milmer,  and  moved 
to  New  York.'  Then,  dy'ye  see,  I  know'd  'twas  you,  and  I 
jest  told  'em  I  know'd  ye  like  a  book — that  I  lived  right 
close  alongside  of  ye.  Ton  that  they  said  as  how  I'd  better 
go  and  see  the  old  lawyer  ;  and  I  went  the  next  day  and 
seed  the  old  feller  ;  and  the  upshot  of  it  all  was,  that  he 
gave  me  this  paper,  and  I  promised  that  I'd  give  it  to  you." 

"  And  why  didn't  you  keep  your  promise,  sir?" 

"  Why  didn't  I  ?  I'd  like  to  know  if  I  didn't.  I  didn't 
gay  when  I'd  give  it  to  ye — jest  mind  that.  I  only  said  you 


CLICKER  PLA  YS  A   TRUMP,  AND  IT  IS  TAKEN.      267 

should  have  it.  I  kind  o'  thought  I  had  a  right  to  open  it 
considerin'  'at  I  was  takin'  it  to  ye  for  nothin';  and  when 
I'd  opened  it,  and  read  it,  I  kind  o'  tho't  as  how  there  was 
an  openin'  for  jest  about  such  a  child  as  I  was.  And  now 
I've  found  it.  I  knew  yer  husband  couldn't  live  a  great 
while — though  I  must  say,  he  hung  on  most  unaccountably* 
Howsumever,  I  hain't  lost  nothin'  by  waitin'.  It's  aU 
right  now,  accordin'  to  my  calkilations." 

Poor  Constance  saw  it  ail  now.  She  could  understand 
the  whole  of  the  villain's  plan,  and  it  was  a  shrewd  one  for 
one  so  evil.  She  gazed  a  few  moments  into  the  man's  face 
after  he  had  done  speaking,  and  then,  with  a  deep  groan, 
she  bowed  her  head,  and  covered  her  face  with  he. 
hands. 

"  I  must  be  goin'  now,"  said  Gilcker,  "  but  I'll  be  back 
this  evening." 

"  This  evening  /  "  cried  Constance,  in  startling  tones,  at 
tne  same  time  leaping  to  her  feet. 

"  Of  course  this  evening,  my  dear.  D'ye  s'pose  I'm  a 
goin'  to  leave  my  own  wife  alone  all  night  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  your  wife,  Duffy  Glicker  !  "  the  widow  uttered, 
her  eye  flashing,  and  her  bosom  heaving.  "  Do  not  come 
near  me  !  " 

There  was  something  so  strangely,  so  almost  super- 
naturally  earnest  in  this  appeal,  that  for  a  moment  even  the 
hardened  villain  was  staggered  ;  but  quickly  rallying,  he 
exclaimed : 

You're  crazy.     Of  course  I'll  come." 
No,  no,  no,  Duffy  Glicker — don't  come  ! " 
But  I  tell  you  I  shall  !  " 
Not  to  remain  all  night  ?  " 

Why — what  else  should  I  come  for  ?    I  tell  ye,  you're 
my  wife  !  " 

"  Hold,  sir.  Listen  to  me  !  "  spoke  the  now  majestic  look- 
ing woman,  in  a  deep,  hushed  voice  :  "  Do  not  come  to 
me  with  that  intent.  I  would  not — have  the  blood  of  a  human 
being  on  my  hands  !  " 

*'  Pshaw  !     Ye  don't  mean  that  ye'll  kill  yourself." 

"  No.  Another  will  die  if  he  persists  in  his  fiendish 
purpose  ?  " 

"  Oho — ye  mean  me  ?  " 

<•  Yes," 


268  ORION',    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

Mr.  Glicker  did  not  feel  the  total  unconcern  he  tried  to 
show. 

"  Go  'way  with  yer  nonsense.     /  shall  come  !  " 

Constance  dsew  the  pistol  from  her  bosom,  and  having 
moved  quickly  to  the  corner  of  the  apartment  she  cocked  it. 

"  Duffy  Glicker,"  she  said,  in  a  cold,  stern  voice,  her 
face  and  form  looking  more  like  a  draped  statue  of  marble 
than  like  a  living  being  ;  "  this  weapon  is  loaded,  and  I 
know  how  to  use  it.  For  the  love  of  God  do  not  force  me 
to  the  bloody  work  !  " 

"  Eh  ?  "  gasped  the  villain,  turning  pale,  and  trembling, 
"  you  wouldn't  shoot  me.  I  know  you  wouldn't." 

"  Duffy  Glicker,"  the  woman  pronounced,  in  a  tone  and 
with  a  look  that  would  have  startled  a  sterner  man  than 
he  who  stood  before  her,  "  you  know  I  am  not  your  wife. 
There  is  no  law  in  this  broad  land  that  can  hold  a  wife  who 
refuses  the  bonds.  I  am  not  a  wife.  I  am  an  honest, 
virtuous  woman,  holding  the  bright  jewel  of  my  soul's 
chastity  above  even  my  own  poor  life.  Yet  I  cannot  will- 
ingly die  while  this  little  child  must  be  left  friendless.  So 
you  will  not  think  I  hold  your  life  above  mine  honor.  No  ! 
— ere  stain  shall  come  upon  me — ere  a  mother's  shame  shall 
fall  as  an  inheritance  to  my  child — a  shame  that  could  but 
cling  to  her  like  a  pest — like  a  plague-spot — I'd  set  free 
from  the  earth  the  souls  of  a  hecatomb  as  such  as  you  ! 
God  bear  me  witness  that  I  speak  the  truth  ! " 

During  this  speech,  which  had  been  spoken  with  an 
almost  mystic  power,  Constance  had  stood  with  her  right 
arm  extended  ;  the  pistol  clenched  firmly  in  her  grasp  ;  and 
its  muzzle  in  a  direct  line  with  the  villain's  face.  He  looked 
in  vain  for  one  sign  of  trembling.  Like  a  statue  still  she 
stood,  with  an  iron  determination  stamped  upon  every 
feature,  and  her  eyes  gleaming  like  orbs  of  fire.  Glicker 
gazed  upon  her  a  full  minute  in  silence,  and  finally  he 
said  : 

"  We'll  have  you  cooled  down,  me  fine  lady.  Jest  let  me 
tell  you  there's  mor'n  one  way  to  quiet  such  as  you.  I 
want  you  to  bear  that  in  mind." 

Constance  made  no  answer.  She  only  gazed  fixedly  into 
the  man's  face,  and  kept  the  deadly  weapon  aimed  at  his 
head. 

The  doughty  fellow  could  stand  it  no  longer,  and  with  a 


HOW   THORNTON'S  PLOT    WORKED.  269 

volley  of  bitter  curses  he  turned  from  the  apartment.  At 
the  door  he  looked  back,  but  the  pistol  was  still  aimed 
directly  at  him,  and  he  passed  out.  Had  he  come  back 
two  minutes  later  he  might  have  secured  the  pistol,  for 
when  Constance  had  heard  her  door  bolted,  and  the  villain's 
steps  die  away  in  the  distance,  she  sank  down  faint  and 
powerless.  This  terrible  season  of  strange  excitement  had 
come  upon  a  frame  already  worn  by  suffering  and  sorrow  ! 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 
HOW  THORNTON'S  PLOT  WORKED. 

ORION  LINDELL  remained  with  Mr.  Garvey  some 
time  after  the  other  workmen  had  left  the  shop,  for 
the  purpose  of  making  an  estimate  on  the  price  of  a 
large  lot  of  foil  which  a  dental  establishment  had  ordered. 
After  this  was  done  the  owner  remarked  that  he  had  an 
engagement,  and  Orion  was  left  to  close  and  secure  the 
shutters  and  doors.  It  was  near  eight  o'clock  when  he  left 
the  shop,  and  it  was  his  intention  to  proceed  at  once  towards 
home  ;  but  at  the  entrance  to  the  court  he  found  a  female 
sobbing  most  piteously.  She  was  leaning  against  one  of 
the  walls,  with  her  head  bowed,  and  her  face  partly  covered 
with  her  hands. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  my  good  woman  ?  "  the  youth  asked, 
stopping  in  front  of  the  apparent  sufferer. 

"  Oh,  sir  !  My  poor  husband,  sir  ! — My  poor  children, 
sir  !  My  poor — poor — oh  !  oh  !  " 

"  But  what  ails  your  husband  and  children  ? " 

"  He  is  dying,  sir  ! — and  my  poor  children  are  starving, 
sir?" 

As  the  female  looked  up  Orion  could  see  by  the  light  of 
the  gas  that  she  was  quite  young  and  very  good  looking, 
though  her  beauty  was  of  a  suspicious  character.  How- 
ever, he  could  not  turn  away  and  leave  her  thus,  so  he 
asked  her  where  her  home  was. 

"  It's  only  just  down  in  Anthony  Street  a  little  way,  sir. 
Oh  !  if  you  would  go  with  me,  and  see  if  anything  can  be 
done  for  my  poor  husband,  I  will  bless  you  !  " 


270  ORION,    THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

Orion  could  not  resist  this  appeal,  and  bidding  the  woman 
lead  the  way  he  started  to  follow  after  her.  They  were 
not  long  in  reaching  Anthony  Street,  and  having  turned 
down  this,  a  very  few  moments  brought  them  to  the  shores 
of  the  Five  Points.  The  woman  turned  to  the  left,  into 
that  pit  known  as  "  Cow  Bay,"  and  when  she  stopped  it  was 
before  a  door  upon  the  right  hand  as  they  faced  up  the 
"  Bay."  She  had  a  latch-key  in  her  possession,  by  means 
of  which  she  gained  entrance.  From  the  cellars  music  and 
dancing  sent  forth  a  crazy  din,  and  the  mingled  howls  and 
songs  of  the  drunken  ones  helped  to  fill  up  the  measure 
of  horrors.  But  our  hero  was  not  obliged  to  listen  long  to 
this.  The  door  was  soon  opened,  and  as  they  passed  into 
the  hall  they  were  met  by  a  young  girl  who  had  a  lamp  in 
her  hand. 

"  Why,  Peggy — is  this  you  ?  "  uttered  the  young  girl. 
"  We  thought  you  had  cleared  out,  and  mother  was  going 
to  let  your  room — " 

At  this  point  they  woman  contrived  to  stop  the  girl's 
tongue,  and  for  some  moments  they  conversed  in  a  low 
whisper.  Finally  the  latter  gave  up  her  light  to  the  former, 
and  then  turned  away.  After  this  the  woman  bade  Orion 
follow  her  up-stairs.  The  youth  hesitated.  He  had  seen 
enough  to  excite  his  suspicions. 

"  Only  up  one  floor  higher,  sir.  Oh — you  won't  leave  me 
now  !  "  urged  the  female.  "  They  thought  I  would  desert 
my  husband  and  children.  Ah — they  didn't  know  me." 

Orion  at  length  started  to  follow  her  up.  At  the  end  of 
the  second-floor  hall  they  came  to  a  door  which  was  bolted 
upon  the  outside. 

"  I  wonder  what  they  took  so  much  pains  to  fasten  this 
door  for  ? "  the  woman  muttered,  apparently  to  herself,  as 
she  drew  back  the  bolt.  "  They  didn't  think  they  could 
lock  the  fleas  in,  did  they  ?  " 

Thus  speaking  the  door  was  thrown  open,  and  as  the 
guide  entered  she  started  back  a  pace,  and  gave  utterance 
to  an  exclamation  of  disappointment,  for  she  saw  before 
her  a  mother  and  child. 

"  Here's  a  pretty  go  !  "  the  new-comer  said,  gazing  into 
the  face  of  the  woman  who  occupied  the  room. 

But  the  person  thus  addressed  made  no  answer,  and  the 
visitor  proceeded ; 


HOW  THORNTON'S  PLOT   WORKED.  27* 

"  Betty  said  her  mother  had  let  this  place  to  one  of  her 
men,  but  she  didn't  tell  me  there  was  anybody  here.  She 
said  Clicker's  woman  was  higher  up.  Who  are  ye  ?  Are 
ye  Glicker's  gal  ? " 

The  occupant  of  the  chamber  was  upon  the  point  of 
answering,  when  she  chanced  to  cast  her  eyes  over  her  in- 
terlocutor's shoulder,  and  as  she  did  so  she  saw  a  face 
which  she  was  sure  she  knew.  The  light  was  dim  and  un- 
certain, but  there  could  be  no  mistake  in  those  handsome, 
manly  features.  She  started  to  her  feet  and  took  a  step 
forward. 

"  Constance  Milmer?  "  cried  Orion,  bounding  forward  and 
grasping  her  by  the  hand.  "  Do  I  find  you  here  ?  It  is 
Constance  ! " 

"  Oh,  God  be  praised  !  "  the  poor  widow  ejaculated,  at 
the  same  time  leaning  heavily  upon  her  faithful  friend. 
"  It  is  I — it  is  poor  Constance  !  " 

"  But  how  in  mercy's  name  came  you  here  ? "  the  youth 
asked  in  astonishment. 

"  Oh,  let  us  flee  from  this  place  !  Save  me  once  more, 
and  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it.  Here — here  is  a  pistol.  It 
is  loaded — every  barrel.  Take  it." 

Orion  took  the  weapon,  and  then  turned  to  the  woman 
who  had  guided  him  thither. 

"  Look  ye,  woman,"  he  uttered,  sternly  and  authorita- 
tively, "  what  means  all  this  ?  Why  did  you  bring  me 
here  ? " 

"  I  didn't  know  that  these  folks  were  here,  sir." 

"  But  where  are  your  husband  and  children,  of  whom  you 
told  me  ?" 

"  They  ain't  here,  that's  certain,"  returned  the  woman 
with  a  sort  of  bold  air. 

"  Your  husband  and  children  ? "  interposed  Constance, 
gazing  into  the  speaker's  face;  "  you  know  you  never  had 
either,  Peggy  Warling." 

"  How  do  you  know  ? " 

"  Because  I  have  known  you  several  years,  and  I  know 
that  you  have  always  been  alone  so  far  as  kindred  is  con- 
cerned." 

"  Oho — now  I  know  ye.  You  are  the  poor  book -binder's 
widder,  what  used  to  hire  a  room  of  old  Ma'am  Dottinton." 

"You  are  right,  Peggy;  and  you  know  we  have  helped 


272  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

you  often.  Ah — you  promised  me  once  that  you  would  re- 
form and  do  evil  no  more.  Oh,  you  are  not  happy  thus!  " 

Peggy  Wading — for  such  was  the  girl's  name — now  re- 
cognized Constance  fully,  and  she  remembered,  too,  many 
acts  of  kindness  which  the  good  woman  had  done  for  her. 

"  Oh — it's  no  use,"  she  cried.  "  I  can't  be  good  if  I  want 
to.  Everybody  knows  I'm  a  tainted  thing,  and  the  virtuous 
shun  me." 

"  No,  no,  Peggy.  Resolve  to  reform,  and  you  can  do  so. 
If  you  can  do  no  better,  then  go  somewhere  where  you  are 
not  known." 

"  We  won't  talk  about  that  now.  But  say — you  are 
Duffy  dicker's  wife,  ain't  you  !  " 

"  No — I  am  not !  He-came  here  with  a  miserable  wretch 
from  among  those  sharks  that  hang  around  the  Tombs, 
and  the  outer  ceremony  was  partly  performed.  But  I 
utterly  refused  to  accede  to  a  thing,  and  plainly  told  them 
no  when  they  asked  me  the  questions.  No,  Peggy,  I  am  not 
his  wife.  Oh,  you  will  not  prevent  me  from  leaving  this 
place  !  " 

"  Me  prevent  you  ?     No — not  a  bit  of  it." 

"  Will  you  not  tell  me  why  you  brought  me  here  ?  " 
asked  Orion,  at  the  same  time  placing  his  hand  upon  the 
poor  girl's  shoulder. 

Peggy  hesitated.  She  did  not  wish  to  carry  her  plans 
any  farther,  nor  did  she  like  to  confess  the  secret  of  her 
movements  thus  far;  but  finally  Constance  prevailed  upon 
her  to  speak. 

"  He  is  a  noble  young  man  whom  you  have  thus  deceived, 
and  I  do  not  believe  that  your  course  is  the  result  of  any 
evil  of  own  concocting,"  said  Constance. 

"  Indeed  it  is  not,"  Peggy  quickly  replied.  "  There's 
villains  in  broadcloth  as  well  as  in  rags.  Doctor  Jasper 
Thornton  hired  me  to  get  the  young  man  here. — But  say — 
we'd  better  be  moving  out  of  this.  The  police  will  be  here 
before  long.  Come — I  guess  we  can  get  out  without  being 
seen.  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it  when  we  get  away  from 
here." 

Thus  speaking  Peggy  Warling  led  the  way  to  the  door, 
Orion,  Constance  and  little  Lizzie  followed  close  behind  her. 
They  reached  the  lower  hall  without  difficulty,  and  with 
noiseless  steps  they  made  their  way  to  the  sidewalk.  Once 


HOW   THORNTON'S  PLOT    WORKED.  2  73 

here  they  hurried  out  to  Anthony  Street,  and  ere  many 
moments  they  were  in  Broadway. 

u  Now,"  said  Peggy, "  I'll  tell  ye  all  about  it.  The  police 
are  going — Ah — there  they  go  now.  See  'em  ?  " 

Orion  and  Constance  looked  towards  the  head  of  the 
street,  up  which  they  had  just  come,  and  saw  some  dozen 
men  just  turning  down  towards  the  Five  Points. 

"  Them's  'um,"  resumed  Peggy.  "  They're  going  to 
make  a  descent  upon  that  house  where  we  were.  Thornton 
knew  it,  and  he  wanted  to  have  this  man  there  in  time  to  be 
found  in  a  room  with  me.  And  I  think  they'd  have  done  it  if 
we  hadn't  met  you  as  we  did." 

"  But  you  would  have  been  apprehended,  too,"  remarked 
Orion. 

"  Aye — and  I  could  have  afforded  it.  Mind  you,  I  didn't 
undertake  the  work  for  nothing.  However,  it  wasn't  my 
fault  that  the  game  was  broke  up;  and  I  don't  think  my 
conscience'll  trouble  me  for  having  exposed  such  a  villain 
as  Jasper  Thornton." 

"  But  what  could  have  been  the  fellow's  meaning  in  this  ?" 
said  the  youth,  in  a  puzzled  mood. 

"  Isn't  there  a  girl  somewhere  that  he'd  like  to  turn 
against  you  ?  "  queried  Peggy. 

"  Ah — I  see  now,"  said  our  hero,  with  compressed  lips. 
"  I  see  now," 

"I'm  glad  you  do,"  responded  the  repentant  girl;  and 
then,  in  a  hurried  tone  she  added,  "  But  I  must  go  now. 
You'd  better  seek  some  place  of  safety  as  soon  as  possible. 
Good  bye." 

"  Hold — stop.  You  will  not  leave  us  so,"  cried  Orion. 
"  I  would  help  you  if  you  will  let  me." 

"  You  help  the  likes  of  me  ?  "  cried  Peggy,  in  quick, 
startling  tones.  "  Perhaps  you  may,  but  not  now.  If  the 
time  ever  comes  when  I  want  it  I'll  find  you.  Good 
night  !  " 

And  with  these  words  the  poor  lost  one  turned  and  fled 
from  them. 

"  It's  no  use  to  try  to  stop  her,"  said  Constance,  as  Orion 
made  a  motion  to  that  effect.  "  She's  a  strange  being. 
James  and  I  have  tried  to  help  her.  She's  got  a  good  heart, 
but  a  long  course  of  sin  and  shame  has  buried  it  up." 

"  Then  let  us  turn  towards  our  home.    You  will  go  with 


274  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

me  to  my  own  house,  and  you  shall  be  safe  there.  And 
there  is  one  beneath  our  roof  who  will  be  glad  to  see  you." 

"Who?" 

"  Ellen  Durand." 

"  She  ?— Sweet,  pure,  good  Ellen!     Is  she  there  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Come — let  us  have  no  hesitation.  If  you  would 
make  me  happy,  then  come  without  a  murmur." 

With  big  tears  rolling  down  her  cheeks  the  poor  widow 
started  on  by  her  protector's  side.  As  soon  as  she  became 
calm  they  stopped  a  stage,  and  got  into  it.  As  they  passed 
Fourteenth  Street  Lizzie,  who  had  been  gazing  out  at  the 
windows,  gave  a  low  cry,  and  as  her  mother  followed  with 
her  the  direction  pointed  out  by  her  child,  she  saw  Duffy 
Glicker  just  turning  into  the  wide  fashionable  street !  A 
low  groan  escaped  from  her  lips,  and  her  hand  was  pressed 
upon  her  heart  to  quell  its  tumultuous  beatings.  The 
scene  had  brought  back  to  her  mind  the  terrible  secret  of 
that  strange  paper  which  the  villain  held.  Orion  saw 
plainly  that  she  was  deeply  moved,  but  he  asked  her  no 
questions,  for  there  were  strangers  in  the  stage. 

At  length  they  were  set  down  at  the  gate  of  the  young 
gold-beater's  home,  and  ere  long  they  were  in  the  comfor- 
table parlor.  Ellen  was  the  first  to  embrace  the  poor 
widow,  and  next  Mrs.  Lindell  was  introduced.  Little  Lizzie 
was  kissed  a  dozen  times,  and  finally  the  party  became 
seated.  Ellen  was  very  anxious  to  know  why  and  how  and 
Constance  had  left  Mrs.  Tiverton's;  so  the  saved  one  related 
all  that  had  occurred,  from  the  coming  of  Mrs.  Tiverton  to 
ask  her  to  go  out  with  Sarah  Johnson  to  the  coming  of 
Orion  and  Peggy  Warling  to  her  prison  room.  She  told 
all  but  the  secret  of  the  paper. 

Various  remarks  were  made  upon  the  conduct  of  Mrs. 
Tiverton,  though  there  was  but  one  opinion  touching  her 
character.  After  this  Ellen  explained  to  Constance  how 
she  had  left  Mrs.  Tiverton's  on  the  same  evening. 

"  And,"  she  added,  "  while  I  was  wondering  how  you 
were  getting  along  without  me  you  were  as  far  off  as  I  was, 
though  your  companionship,  saving  our  darling  Lizzie,  was 
not  quite  so  pleasant  as  mine." 

"  But  tell  us,"  said  Orion,  "  have  you  not  yet  seen  that 
paper  which  Duffy  Glicker  holds  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Constance,  turning  pale,  and  trembl- 


ASTOUNDING  DEVELOPMENTS.  275 

ing  like  an  aspen.  "  But  if  you  care  for  me  ask  me  nothing 
touching  it  to-night.  At  some  time  I  may  tell  you  all;  but 
not  now  !  " 

Of  course  her  friends  would  not  oppress  her  with  ques- 
tions after  this,  and  ere  long  the  conversation  took  a  general 
turn,  and  for  the  while  all  troubles  seemed  forgotten. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

ASTOUNDING    DEVELOPMENTS. 

PAUL  TIVERTON  had  returned  from  his  journey.  He 
came  into  the  city  on  the  morning  which  saw  the 
illegal  marriage  ceremony  between  Duffy  Glicker  and 
Constance  Milmer,  and  he  now,  in  the  evening,  sat  in  his 
library  at  the  very  time  that  was  witnessing  the  flight  of 
Constance  from  her  prison.  When  he  reached  his  count- 
ing-house that  morning  he  found  a  note  there  from  old 
Aunt  Rhoda,  informing  him  that  Daro  Kid  was  with  her. 
She  had  found  him  in  the  street,  and  had  taken  him  home. 
The  merchant  at  once  dispatched  a  note  by  his  faithful 
coachman,  in  which  he  asked  them  if  they  would  call  upon 
him  at  his  house,  if  he  would  send  his  carriage  for  them  in 
the  evening.  Answer  came  back  that  they  would,  for  they 
needed  his  assistance. 

So  Mr.  Tiverton  now  sat  in  his  library  awaiting  the  com- 
ing of  the  two  old  people.  He  was  not  so  hale  and  hearty 
looking  as  when  we  last  saw  him.  His  face  was  pale,  and 
there  were  lines  of  care  and  trouble  upon  his  brow. 
Clouds  flitted  across  his  features  as  he  sat  in  thought,  and 
even  a  casual  observer  would  have  seen  that  he  was  un- 
happy. He  had  seen  his  wife  a  few  moments  since  his 
return,  but  their  meeting  had  been  cold  and  formal.  He 
had  found  both  Ellen  and  Mrs.  Milmer  gone,  and  he  asked 
Julia  what  it  meant.  She  simply  informed  him  that  the 
latter  had  been  sent  away  because  she  was  not  wanted,  and 
that  the  former  had  gone  of  her  own  accord. 

"  Of  her  own  accord  ? "  was  the  husband's  reply.  "  How 
was  that  ?  Where  is  she  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure,  unless  she's  herding  again 


2 7 6  ORION,    THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

with  the  gold-beater's  crew."     And    with  this  reply  the 
woman  had  left  him. 

At  length  the  carnage  came,  and  Thomas  conducted 
Daro  Kid  and  Aunt  Rhoda  into  the  library.  The  mer- 
chant greeted  them  kindly,  though  he  would  hardly  have 
recognized  Kid  had  he  met  him  in  the  street.  Under  Aunt 
Rhoda's  care  he  had  assumed  a  new  dress  ;  and  rest  and 
friendship  had  served  to  restore  much  of  his  native  grace 
and  vigor.  He  now  looked  like  a  hale  and  hearty  man  of 
about  fifty,  with  a  face  of  much  comeliness,  and  a  manly 
bearing.  In  short,  he  was  a  generous,  intelligent,  good- 
looking  man — his  hair  rather  gray  for  one  of  his  years,  and 
some  deep  lines  upon  the  open  brow,  but  still  he  bore  them 
well. 

The  old  lady  was  past  reviving.  Four-score  years  had 
bent  her  form  so  that  it  could  not  be  made  erect,  and  the 
hand  of  Time  had  furrowed  her  face  so  that  no  amount  of 
health  could  make  it  smooth  again.  Yet  she  was  hale  and 
hearty,  and  seemed  fond  of  life. 

"  My  friends,"  said  the  merchant,  after  the  usual  salu- 
tations had  passed,  and  something  of  a  silence  had  fol- 
lowed, "  I  have  sent  for  you  because  I  wished  to  see  you 
very  much.  Since  first  I  held  the  suspicions  which — " 

At  this  point  Mr.  Tiverton  stopped,  for  he  heard  the 
door  of  the  front  parlor  open,  and  some  one  enter.  He 
arose  and  drew  aside  one  of  the  heavy  crimson  curtains 
that  hung  over  the  windows — or  glass  doors — which  com- 
municated with  the  back  parlor,  and  he  was  not  a  little 
surprised  to  see  Mr.  Duffy  Glicker !  But  he  was  more 
surprised  still  upon  seeing  his  wife  enter  immediately 
behind  him.  He  dropped  the  curtain  and  sank  back  into 
his  chair.  At  first  he  thought  of  trying  to  get  rid  of  his 
company,  for  he  knew  that  every  word  which  his  wife  and 
her  strange  companion  spoke,  if  in  an  ordinary  key,  could 
be  heard  by  them.  But  the  plan  was  impracticable.  He 
wished  to  know  himself  what  was  going  on  ;  and  when  he 
came  to  remember  that  his  two  companions  knew  already 
more  of  his  wife's  early  life  than  he  did,  he  concluded  to 
let  matters  take  their  own  course. 

"  Well,  sir,"  uttered  Mrs.  Tiverton,  as  soon  as  she  had 
closed  the  door  behind  her,  and  taken  a  seat,  "  to  what  am 
I  indebted  for  this  visit  ? " 


ASTOUNDING  DEVELOPMENTS.  277 

"Why,  mum,"  returned  Glicker,  speaking  in  a  tone 
which  might  have  been  heard  beyond  where  the  merchant 
sat,  "  I  come  to  see  yer  on  a  pertickeler  business.  Yer 
know  the  poor  widder  I  took  away  from  here  for  ye  ? " 

"  You  mean  Mrs.  Milmer." 

"Yes,  mum." 

"  I  know  that  I  sent  her  away,  sir." 

"  Yes    an'  ye  know,  too,  that  ye  got  me  to  take  her  off." 

"  There  is  no  need,  sir,  of  reminding  me  of  that  fact 
again." 

"  Of  course  not,  mum.  But,  ye  see,  I've  done  more'n 
that  for  ye." 

"  More  than  that,  sir  ?  " 

"  Ye-es,  mum.     I've  been  and  married  the  woman." 

" "  Have  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  mum." 

"  Then  I  hope  you've  got  a  good  wife." 

"I  hope  so,  too,  mum.  But  I've  been  wantin'  to  get  her 
for  a  wife  a  long  time.  Perhaps  ye  know'd  I  had  a  bit  of 
paper  that  concerned  the  widder  somewhat." 

"  I  think  I  have  heard  something  about  such  a  thing  sir. 
But  what  is  all  this  to  me  ? " 

"  That's  what  I'm  comin'  at  directly,  mum  ;  and  I  s'pose 
the  quicker  the  better." 

"  You  have  spoken  the  truth  this  time,  sir  ;  and  I 
would  thank  you  to  come  at  the  pith  of  your  business  at 
once." 

"Well,  mum— I  will." 

At  this  point  Glicker  rut>bed  his  hands  in  a  sort  of  ner- 
vous manner,  and  gazed  down  upon  the  floor  as  though  he 
had  lost  part  of  his  errand.  At  length,  however,  he  looked 
up,  and  in  a  careful  tone  he  said  : 

"  I  s'pose  Mr.  Tiverton  wasn't  yer  fust  husband,  was 
he?" 

The  woman  started  half  up  from  her  chair,  and  then, 
trembling  like  an  aspen,  she  sank  back  and  gasped  for 
breath. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir  ? "  she  finally  succeeded  in  say- 
ing. 

"  Why — I  mean  just  what  I  says  :  Paul  Tiverton  wasn't 
yer  fust  husband  !  " 

"  Sir — would  you  insult  me  ?  " 

'" 


27S  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

"  Oh,  no,  my  fine  leddy.  But  don't  git  into  a  passion. 
You'll  find  afore  I  get  through  that  I'm  willin'  to  help  ye. 
Now  I  must  take  it  for  granted  that  you  had  another  hus- 
band afore  ye  was  married  to  Paul  Tiverton.  Ain't  I 
right  ?  " 

Mrs.  Tiverton  struggled  hard  with  herself,  for  both  fear 
and  rage  were  working  mightily  within  her.  She  would 
have  had  the  fellow  whipped  from  the  house,  but  she  knew 
that  he  must  possess  some  secret  of  hers,  and  she  dared  not 
let  him  leave  her  with  feelings  of  revenge. 

And  there  was  another,  too,  who  sat  pale  and  trembling — 
another  upon  whose  soul  these  words  of  the  villain  fell  with 
terrible  power.  Paul  Tiverton  sat  with  his  hands  tightly 
clasped  upon  his  knees  and  listened.  He  could  not  help 
listening  now. 

"  Well,  sir,"  at  length  spoke  the  hostess,  "  and  what  if 
that  be  true  ?  " 

"  Why — the  next  thing  was,  ye  had  a  child  afore  ever  ye 
was  married  to  Paul  Tiverton  !  " 

Again  the  woman  started  half  up  from  her  seat,  but  sank 
trembling  back  again. 

<l  What  do  you  know  of  all  this,  sir  ? "  she  finally  asked  in 
spasmodic  tones. 

"  Why,  mum — I  know  ye  had  a  husband  named  Frank 
Bertram,  and  that  ye  had  a  child — a  little  girl !  " 

"  Aye,  sir,"  said  Julia  Tiverton,  regaining  her  power  of 
self-control  by  a  mighty  effort,  "  I  did.  My  husband  was 
lost  at  sea,  and  my  child  died  while  it  was  yet  a  babe." 

"  How  old  did  it  live  to  be  ?  " 

"  A  little  over  two  years." 

"  But  what  makes  you  think  the  child  died  ? " 

"What  makes  me  think?  "  repeated  the  woman,  with  a 
frightened  look,  "  I  know  it  died  !  " 

"  But  how  do  you  know  ?  " 

Mrs.  Tiverton  was  so  far  in  bondage  to  her  fears  now 
that  she  dared  do  no  other  way  than  to  answer  him  She 
dreamed  not  that  her  husband  was  at  home.  She  had 
heard  the  carriage  go  away  early  in  the  evening,  and  she 
supposed  he  went  in  it.  She  did  not  hear  it  when  it  re- 
turned. And  then  the  heavy  curtains  of  the  library  pre- 
vented the  rays  of  the  gas-light  from  being  detected  from 
the  parlor. 


ASTOUNDING  DEVELOPMENTS.  279 

"  My  child  was  left  with  an  old  aunt  of  mine,  and  when  I 
went  out  to  see  it,  she  told  me  'twas  dead." 

"  That  aunt  was  Rhoda  Church,  wasn't  it  ?  Old  Aunt 
Rhoda,  that  lived  out  in  Willowdale  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Wai — now — s'pose  I  should  tell  ye  yer  child  didn't  die  ? " 

"  'Twould  be  false  ? "  cried  the  woman,  energetically. 
"She  did  die?" 

"  But  I  say  she  didn't  die  !  She  is  still  alive — and  well 
and  hearty,  too  !  " 

"  Alive  !  "  gasped  he  whom  we  have  known  as  Daro  Kid, 
folding  his  hands  towards  heaven.  "  O  great  God,  I  thank 
thee  !  " 

Paul  Tiverton  sat  like  a  marble  statue  now.  He  was 
past  trembling. 

"  Impossible  ! "  shrieked  Mrs.  Tiverton,  starting  up  from 
her  chair. 

"  It  is  true,  mum — every  word  of  it.  Your  daughter — that 
was  born  afore  ye  married  with  Paul  Tiverton — is  alive  and 
well  ;  and,  what's  more,  she's  my  wife  !  Now  ye  know  the 
whole  ! " 

"  It's  false  !  all,  all  false  !  "  the  woman  gasped,  sinking 
back  into  her  seat. 

"Wai — ef  yer  stick  to  it,  then  I  must  show  ye  the  docki- 
ments,"  said  Glicker,  with  a  provoking,  business-like  cool- 
ness. "  Here — jest  read  this." 

As  he  thus  spoke  he  handed  to  her  the  same  paper  which 
he  had  shown  Constance.  She  opened  it,  and  commenced 
to  read.  It  was  a  deposition  from  Rhoda  Church  to  Con- 
stance Bertram,  drawn  up  in  legal  form,  and  duly  sworn  to 
before  a  justice.  It  had  been  placed  in  the  care  of  Mrs. 
Ann  Gilmore,  who  was  therein  directed  to  give  it  to  Con- 
stance when  she  should  become  of  age.  It  commenced  by 
informing  Constance  that  she  had  been  deceived  concern- 
ing her  parentage. 

"  Your  mother,"  it  went  on,  "  was  my  niece.  She  came 
to  live  with  me  while  her  parents  went  to  Europe.  While 
with  me  she  fell  in  love  with  a  young  sailor,  named  Frank 
Bertram,  and  married  him.  After  this  Frank  went  to  sea, 
and  during  one  of  his  voyages  you  were  born.  He 
came  home  and  saw  you  and  remained  with  you  and  your 
mother  nearly  three  months,  At  the  end  of  this  time 


28o  ORION,    THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

he  went  to  sea  again,  this  voyage  shipping  as  captain 
of  a  ship,  and  bound  for  the  East  Indies.  About  six 
months  after  he  had  gone  we  received  intelligence  that 
his  ship  was  cast  away  and  all  hands  lost.  It  was  now 
nearly  three  years  since  your  mother's  parents  left,  and 
you  were  two  years  old.  When  your  mother  learned 
that  her  parents  were  on  their  way  home  she  was 
fearful  that  they  would  be  very  angry  if  they  knew  of  the 
love  marriage  she  had  contracted,  and  as  she  felt  sure  her 
husband  was  dead,  she  resolved  to  hide  the  fact  from  them. 
To  this  end  she  got  me  to  take  her  child  and  promise  to 
keep  it  as  my  own,  and  never  to  lisp  a  word  of  her  marriage. 
I  argued  with  her,  but  her  fear  of  fashionable  odium  over- 
came the  mother's  love,  and  she  would  not  listen.  When 
she  went  away  to  join  her  parents  I  resolved  that  she 
should  never  see  her  child  again.  I  may  have  been  wrong, 
but  I  was  indignant  at  one  who  could  thus  forsake  her  own 
child,  and  I  kept  my  resolution.  When  she  came,  some 
months  later,  and  wished  to  see  little  Constance  I  told  her 
the  child  was  dead.  (I  meant  dead  to  her.)  If  I  did 
wrong  God  forgive  me  ;  but  I  was  angry  with  the  heartless 
thing,  and  had  no  compassion  on  her. — Alas  !  my  heart 
was  softened,  but  too  late.  Your  mother  soon  became  the 
wife  of  a  wealthy  young  merchant,  named  Paul  Tiverton, 
and  he  thought  her  what  she  professed  to  be — a  maiden. 
She  still  lives, — a  shooting-star  in  the  fashionable  sky — a 
false  stone  in  the  diadem  of  humanity.  God  have  mercy 
on  her  !  If  the  time  should  ever  come  when  you  are  in 
trouble  or  in  want — for  you  will  not  get  this  until  your 
mind  and  judgment^are  well  developed — you  will  find  your 
own  mother  in  Mrs.  JULIA  TIVERTON,  the  wife  of  Paul 
Tiverton,  Esq." 

After  this  the  paper  went  on  to  give  an  account  of  why 
the  deponent  was  called  away,  and  so  on,  and  ended  by 
asking  forgiveness  for  all  the  concealment  she  had  used. 

Julia  Tiverton  read  the  missive  through,  and  then,  with 
a  deep  groan,  she  sank  back  in  her  chair,  and  the  paper 
dropped  from  her  hands.  Glicker  hastened  to  pick  it  up, 
and  after  he  had  done  so  he  said  : 

"  Now  what  d'ye  think  of  it,  mum  ? " 

"  Oh,  sir  ? "  the  miserable  woman  gasped,  "  what  do  you 
mean  to  do  with  this  information  ?  " 


ASTdUNDING  DEVELOPMENTS.  281 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  'dzactly  understand  you,  mum." 

"  I  mean,  what  use  do  you  mean  to  make  of  this  ? " 

"Oh — ah— yes,  yes.  I  see  now.  Wai — I  s'pose  you'd 
like  to  have  me  speak  right  out  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  sir." 

"  Wai — then — ye  see  me  and  Constance  ain't  very  well  off 
in  the  world,  and  seem'  how't  she's  your  darter,  why — I 
didn't  know  but  what,  for  the  sake  of  keepin'  this  thing 
mum,  ye'd  kind  o'  help  us  a  mite  ?  " 

"  You  want  money  ?  " 

"Ye — as — yass — that's  about  as  good  as  anything  for  the 
complaint  we've  got." 

"  And  how  much  will  hire  you  to  keep  this  thing  a  pro- 
found secret  ? " 

"That  ain't  jest  'dzactly  the  way  I'd  looked  at  it  in.  I'd 
kind  o'  thought  as  how't  would  be  better  to  pay  me — that 
is,  to  pay  your  darter  and  her  husband — so  much  a  month 
— say  a  hundred  dollars  a  month." 

"  I  will  do  it,  sir.  I  will  do  it  readily  if  you  will  promise 
in  return  to  keep  this  thing  a  profound  secret." 

"  I  will,  mum." 

Mrs.  Tiverton  drew  forth  her  purse,  and  took  therefrom 
a  number  of  bank-notes  which  she  looked  over,  and  then 
handed  them  to  Glicker.  He  took  them  with  a  sparkling 
eye,  and  having  placed  them  in  his  wallet  he  arose  from  his 
chair. 

"  I  s'pose  there  ain't  no  need  of  my  stoppin'  any  longer," 
he  said. 

"  Not  in  the  least." 

And  with  this  Glicker  went  out  into  the  hall,  and  madam 
followed  him.  In  a  few  moments  the  latter  returned  and 
sank  down  upon  one  of  the  tete-a-tetes.^ 

"  Oh,  great  God  of  heaven  !  "  she  groaned,  with  her 
hands  clasped,  and  her  face  as  rigid  as  marble,  "  and  thus 
I  find  a  child  !  She  has  been  beneath  this  very  roof,  and  I 
treated  her  like  a  dog  ?  She  found  a  home  here,  and  I 
turned  her  out,  and  gave  her  into  the  hands  of  a  villain  ! 
But  it  can  not  be  helped  now.  'Twas  not  my  fault.  No — 
no.  'Twas  the  fault  of  her  who  lied  to  me,  and  told  me  my 
child  was  dead  !  But  never  mind.  These  accursed  scenes 
are  not  much  longer  for  me.  Oh — a  brighter  sky  shall  be 
spread  above  me,  and  a  fairer  laad  bear  my  footsteps, 


2&2  ORWtt,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

Let  him  hold  his  secret,  or  let  him  blab  it,  'tis  all  one  to  me. 
Yet  I  hope  he  will  be  silent  awhile." 

At  this  moment  Paul  Tiverton  uttered  a  deep  groan. 
He  could  not  have  helped  it  had  his  life  depended  upon  its 
suppression.  It  was  an  agonizing  groan,  and  the  grief 
that  gave  it  birth  was  bitter  and  poignant.  It  was  not 
what  he  had  wholly  heard  from  Duffy  dicker  that  caused 
this  :  it  was  partly  those  words  she  had  spoken  to  herself. 
He  felt  sure  he  knew  their  meaning.  He  knew  she  had 
received  the  visits  of  a  soi-disant  prince,  and  what  should 
she  mean  by  "  a  brighter  sky  "  and  "  a  fairer  land"  if  not 
the  supposed  home  of  that  supposed  prince  !  The  groan 
was  a  bursting  forth  of  agony  from  all  these  things,  and 
it  startled  Mrs.  Tiverton  as  though  she  had  heard  the  re- 
port of  a  cannon  in  her  house.  She  sprang  to  her  feet 
and  hurried  from  the  room,  and  ere  many  minutes  Sarah 
Johnson  came  and  looked  into  the  library.  The  merchant 
heard  her  coming,  and  he  arose  and  stood  by  the  door  so 
that  she  could  not  see  who  was  in  the  apartment,  for  he 
mistrusted  her  errand  at  once.  She  merely  said  she  had 
come  to  see  if  the  light  was  safe,  not  knowing  that  any  one 
was  there.  Mr.  T.  very  politely  bowed  her  out,  and  turned 
towards  his  guests. 

"  Now,  sir,"  said  Daro  Kid — but  whom  we  must  here- 
after know  by  his  right  name,  Frank  Bertram — "  you  know 
all." 

"Aye,  sir,"  added  Aunt  Rhoda,  "you  now  know  all  you 
have  asked  me  to  reveal.  The  truth  can  be  no  longer 
hidden." 

"  And  you,  sir,"  whispered  the  merchant,  turning  to  Ber- 
tram, "were  Julia's  first  husband  ?" 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  storm-beaten  man.  "  In  the  first 
flush  of  my  manly  pride  I  married  her  ;  and  she  was  then 
a  maiden  just  blushing  into  womanhood — only  eighteen. 
I  loved  her — oh  !  I  loved  her  well — and  I  am  sure  she 
loved  me." 

"  Aye — in  the  wildness  of  romantic  folly  she  did,"  inter- 
posed the  old  woman. 

"  But  how  were  you  preserved  ?  What  occasioned  the 
story  of  your  loss  ?  "  asked  Tiverton. 

"  My  ship  was  cast  away,  sir,  upon  one  of  the  South  Pa- 
cific islands,  and  I  alone  of  all  the  crew  was  saved.  I  was 


ASTOUNDING  DEVELOPMENTS.  283 

taken  by  the  natives  ;  and  as  I  saved  many  tools  and  other 
things  from  the  wreck,  which  they  knew  I  understood, 
they  kept  me  to  use  them,  and  also  to  induct  others  into 
their  use.  Only  two  weeks  after  this  an  American  bark 
touched  at  the  island,  and  I  was  carried  off  and  hidden  in 
the  interior.  They  told  the  crew  of  the  bark  that  all  hands 
had  been  lost,  but  they  would  give  up  nothing  of  what  had 
been  found  except  the  papers.  So  of  course  the  news  of 
my  loss  came  direct  to  America.  I  was  kept  upon  that 
island,  as  a  slave,  nearly  twenty-four  years.  At  the  end  of 
that  time  I  managed  to  break  from  the  prison  into  which 
they  had  thrown  me  during  the  visit  of  an  English  man-o'- 
war,  and  thus  I  got  clear.  The  captain  of  the  ship  gave 
me  protection  at  once,  and  with  him  I  sailed  to  Portsmouth. 
As  soon  as  possible  I  made  my  way  to  Liverpool,  where  I 
fell  in  with  a  merchant  from  this  city,  for  whom  I  once 
sailed  as  mate.  I  asked  him  if  he  knew  anything  of  my 
wife.  When  I  told  him  she  was  once  Julia  Church,  the 
daughter  of  Jacob  Church,  the  wealthy  merchant,  he  in- 
formed me  she  had  married  with  Paul  Tiverton,  and  he  was 
sure  she  professed  to  be  a  maiden.  From  this  I  knew  that 
our  child  must  either  be  dead  or  else  given  away ;  for  she 
could  not  have  passed  herself  off  as  a  girl  unless  her  off- 
spring was  out  of  the  way. 

On  my  way  home  from  Liverpool,  I  resolved  to  change 
my  name,  because  I  had  no  desire  to  make  a  general  flare- 
up  by  having  your  family  to  know  there  was  a  first  husband 
living.  In  short,  I  did  not  wish  to  have  Julia  know  that  I 
was  living.  When  I  reached  here,  my  first  movement  was 
to  call  upon  you,  for  I  had  hoped  thus  to  find  if  Aunt  Rhoda 
was  living,  and  if  so,  where.  You  remember  the  meeting. 
After  that  I  went  out  to  Willowdale,  where  I  found  that 
the  old  lady  had  gone  to  the  State  of  Maine,  and  that  my 
child  had  grown  up  and  married  a  man  named  Milmer,  and 
then  moved  to  the  city.  Then  I  returned,  and  while 
searching  in  vain  for  my  child,  I  fell  in  with  good  Aunt 
Rhoda.  Still  we  could  not  find  poor  Constance.  But  we 
have  found  her  now — or,  what  is  the  same,  we  have  a  clew 
to  her.  Oh,  God  be  merciful  unto  her  !  " 

"  We  shall  easily  find  her,  sir,"  said  the  merchant.  "  She 
is  a  noble  woman,  and  I  am  sure  she  will  meet  with  no 
harm  at  the  hands  of  the  man  who  holds  her.  She  is  too 


284  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

stern  and  fixed  in  her  resolutions  of  Right  to  be  overcome 
by  him.  You  will  find  her  pure  in  life,  or  else  free  from 
earth." 

"  Isn't  it  strange  ? "  murmured  Aunt  Rhoda,  deeply 
affected  ;  "  only  think,  'twas  her  own  daughter  who  came 
to  Julia's  house,  and  that  she  turned  out  upon  the  mercy 
of  a  villain.  Oh  !  God's  ways  are  wonderful !  " 

"They  are  indeed  !  "  responded  the  merchant. 

There  were  more  explanations.  The  old  lady  told  all 
about  how  she  gave  Constance  to  the  widow  Gilmore  when 
she  started  for  Maine,  and  also  gave  a  full  account  of  the 
paper  she  left,  and  all  she  wrote  in  it.  And  then  Bertram 
gave  a  more  full  account  of  his  adventures  among  the 
Indians.  It  was  late  when  the  trio  separated,  and  as  they 
did  so,  each  had  a  God's  blessing  for  the  others.  Bertram 
and  Aunt  Rhoda  were  to  remain  beneath  the  merchant's 
roof  for  the  present. 

When  Paul  Tiverton  stood  alone  in  his  chamber,  he 
clasped  his  hands  and  raised  them  towards  heaven  : 

"  Oh,  God  !  have  mercy  on  her  !  "  he  murmured,  while 
the  hot  tears  started  from  his  eyes.  "  This  thing  ought 
never  to  have  been.  Forgive  her  ! — Forgive  me  !  " 

And  with  these  words  he  sank  down  upon  a  chair,  and 
covered  his  face  with  his  hands.  Once  he  arose,  and  was 
upon  the  point  of  seeking  his  wife — to  forgive  her  all.  But 
he  feared  that  cold  repulse  which  he  had  so  often  met 
before,  and  he  remained  where  he  was.  Ah — he  did  not 
then  think  that  he  would  never  see  that  wife  again  ! 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

THE    LAST    BLOW    IS   STRICKEN  ! 

JULIA  TIVERTON  waited  until  she  knew  that  her  hus- 
band had    retired.     She    had  received  from  her  maid 
the  information  that  he  had  been  in  the  library  when 
the  latter  went  down,  and  hence  the  wife  knew  that  her 
great  life-secret  was  known  to  her  companion.     But  she 
seemed  not  at  all  frightened.     All  expression  of  fear  was 
gone  from  her  face,  and  in  its  place  had  come  a  look  of 


THE  LAST  BLOW  IS  STRICKEN.  285 

iron  will — of  firm  purpose.  She  had  seen  her  daughter 
leave  the  house  early  in  the  evening,  in  company  with  the 
Count  of  Gusterhausen,  and  she  knew  that  Isabella  would 
never  come  back  save  as  a  wife  !  And  yet,  when  her  hus- 
band had  asked  her  where  his  child  was,  she  had  told  him 
she  had  simply  gone  out  to  spend  the  evening  with  a  few 
female  friends  ! 

As  soon  as  Madam  was  sure  her  husband  had  retired, 
she  went  to  her  dressing-case  and  took  therefrom  an  ebony 
casket.  It  was  very  heavy,  for  it  contained  all  her  jewelry. 
And  she  had  much  of  it.  Few  women  in  the  great  city  had 
more.  She  had  one  set  of  diamonds — a  tiara,  brooch, 
necklace,  and  ring — worth  eighty  thousand  dollars.  And 
there  was  some  gold  in  that  casket,  too  ;  and  also  some 
bank-notes.  Aye — there  were  bank-notes  to  the  amount  of 
one  hundred  and  twenty-eight  thousand  dollars  !  She  had 
that  day  drawn  out  all  her  money  from  the  bank  ! 

Having  secured  this,  and  then  taken  a  large  bundle  of 
her  most  costly  clothing,  such  as  laces,  velvet,  satin,  and  so 
on,  she  glided  noiselessly  down  into  the  parlor,  where  she 
lighted  the  gas,  and  then  opened  one  of  the  upper  blinds, 
or  shutters.  When  this  was  done  she  sat  down  upon  a  sofa, 
and  for  the  first  time  there  was  a  tremulousness  in  her 
frame.  But  it  did  not  continue  long,  for  in  a  very  few 
moments  after  the  stream  of  light  was  let  out  into  the  street 
some  one  rapped  three  times  upon  the  window,  with  what 
appeared  to  be  a  stick.  The  woman  started  up  and  listened. 
In  a  moment  more  the  signal  was  repeated,  only  there  were 
four  raps  instead  of  three.  With  a  noiseless  tread  and 
movement  Mrs.  Tiverton  went  and  opened  the  front  door, 
and  on  the  next  instant  she  was  in  the  embrace  of  the 
Prince  Bernardo  de  Tavora. 

"My  life!  you  are  ready!"  he  uttered,  kissing  her 
cheek. 

"  All  ready,"  she  whispered.     "  Are  you  ?  " 

"  Yes.  The  carriage  is  around  the  corner.  Come,  let  us 
lose  no  time." 

The  woman  hastened  back,  and  having  thrown  on  her 
shawl  and  hat,  and  secured  the  casket,  she  picked  up  her 
bundle  and  rejoined  the  waiting  Prince. 

"  Eh  ?  "  he  said,  as  he  took  the  bundle.  "  What's  dis  ? 
You  no  come  back  ?  You  be  mine  for  always  ? " 


286  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

"  Yes,  dear  Prince  !  " 

"  Oh,  sunlight  of  my  soul ! — darling  of  my  life  ! — sweet, 
dear,  angelic,  cherub,  delight  !  " 

"  — Sh  !  not  so  loud,  my  love.     Let  us  go." 

"  And  the  money  ?  " 

"  Is  all  here,  dear  Prince," 

"  Enough  to  carry  us  over  to  my  palace  on  the  Arno  ?  " 

"  In  money  and  jewels  I  have  two  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  dollars." 

"  Oh  !  charmer — stealer  of  my  soul — keeper  of  my  heart 
and  life — you  shall  keep  all  that  for  chanty.  While  you 
live  upon  my  bounty  you  shall  bestow  that  upon  the  needy 
peasants,  and  they  shall  rise  up  and  call  you  blessed  !  " 

"  Oh,  delightful  !  "  murmured  Julia. 

With  this  they  descended  the  steps,  the  woman  having 
first  turned  off  the  gas,  and  in  a  few  moments  they  reached 
the  coach  which  was  in  waiting  at  the  next  corner.  Julia 
Tiverton  was  handed  in,  and  when  the  Prince  had  taken  a 
seat  by  her  side,  the  horses  were  started  off  at  a  swift  pace, 
and  the  faithless,  guilty  woman  knew  that  she  was  leaving 
her  home,  never  to  return  to  it  again  in  the  flesh  !  Yet  she 
did  not  weep,  nor  did  she  appear  sorrowful.  She  clung 
closely  to  the  apology  for  a  man  who  accompanied  her,  and 
rested  her  head  upon  his  shoulder. 

When  the  coach  stopped  it  was  before  a  house  in  Twenty- 
Third  Street.  It  was  midnight,  and  yet  the  parlors  of  this 
house  were  lighted,  though  there  was  no  sound  of  revelry 
from  within.  The  Prince  assisted  Mrs.  Tiverton  to  alight, 
and  then  conducted  her  to  the  door,  where  they  were  soon 
admitted  by  a  black  servant. 

Within  the  parlor  were  some  half-dozen  persons,  all 
intimate  friends  of  the  merchant's  wife.  The  owner  of  the 
house  was  a  young  man  who  had  been  left  by  his  parents 
with  a  large  ifortune,  and  who  was  now  contriving  to  spend 
it  as  fast  as  possible.  He  and  his  wife  were  present ;  also 
a  "  fast "  young  justice  ;  a  female  friend  of  the  hostess, 
and  the  Count  of  Gusterhausen  and  Isabella.  They  all 
arose  as  the  Prince  and  madam  entered,  and  when  the 
salutations  had  passed  around,  the  Count  proposed  that  the 
ceremony  should  go  on. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Tiverton  ;  "  let  it  go  on  at  once." 

Blushing  and  trembling  Isabella  Tiverton  was  led  for- 


THE  LAST  BLOW  IS  STRICKEN.  287 

ward,  and  with  the  Count  by  her  side  the  ceremony  com- 
menced. The  justice  made  them  man  and  wife.  Isabella 
had  cast  off  her  father's  name  forever — and  she  thought  she 
was  going  to  be  happy  !  Not  a  pang  was  in  her  heart — 
not  a  sting  in  her  conscience — only  once  she  half-wished, 
or  at  least  wondered,  if  she  would  not  have  been  happier 
if  she  could  have  felt  that  her  father's  consent  had  been 
given  to  this  union. 

As  soon  as  the  marriage  had  been  concluded  the  object 
of  the  meeting-  was  gained,  and  after  drinking  a  few  glasses 
of  wine  the  company  prepared  to  separate. 

"  My  child,"  said  Mrs.  Tiverton — and  her  voice  trembled 
some  as  she  spoke — "you  will  go  to  your  hotel  to-night, 
and — and — when  will  you  come  home  ?  " 

"When  you  say,  mother." 

"  Come  when  you  please.  You  need  not  fear  to  tell  your 
father  that  you  are  married.  You  may  come  to-morrow." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  new-made  wife.  "  To-morrow  the 
Count  and  myself  will  call  upon  you  ?  " 

As  Isabella  was  about  to  turn  away,  her  coach  having 
been  announced,  her  mother  caught  her  by  the  hand. 

"  My  child — Isabella  " — she  uttered,  spasmodically — 
"  God  bless  and  keep  you.  Should  anything  happen  that 
you  don't  see  me  to-morrow  ;  or — or — if  you  don't  see  me 
for  some  time — you  won't  forget  me.  You'll  pray  for  me. 
You'll  remember  me  !  " 

"  Why — ma — what  makes  you  speak  so  strangely  ?  " 

"  Strangely,  my  child  ?  It's  nothing — only — only — the 
thought  that  you  are  married — that  you  are  no  longer  to  be 
with  me  as  a  companion — moved  me." 

"  Oh — is  that  all,"  returned  the  young  bride,  with  a  light, 
faint  laugh.  "  Don't  feel  sad,  ma — I  shall  see  you  often." 

With  this  the  light-headed,  empty-hearted  bride  was  led 
away  to  her  carriage,  and  for  a  few  moments  the  mother 
was  left  standing  alone.  And  during  these  few  moments 
there  were  some  strange  thoughts  and  feelings  in  her  soul. 
She  felt  sure  she  should  never  see  her  child  again — unless, 
indeed,  the  Count  should  take  her  to  Germany,  and  then 
bring  her  on  a  visit  to  Rome  or  Florence  !  But  her  thoughts 
were  soon  broken  in  upon  by  the  Prince,  who  came  to 
inform  her  that  his  coach  was  ready.  She  prepared  herself 
in  a  few  moments,  and  was  then  led  out.  She  found  her 


288  ORION,   THE  COLD  BEA  TER. 

bundle  safe  as  she  had  left  it.  The  casket  she  had  kept  in 
her  own  possession. 

"  Whither  shall  we  go,  dear  Prince  ?  "  she  asked,  as  she 
stood  upon  the  sidewalk. 

"  We  will  go  to  a  hotel,  now,  and  in  the  morning  start 
for  Philadelphia,"  returned  the  Prince. 

The  lady  assented  to  this,  and  having  taken  their  seats 
within  the  carriage  they  were  whirled  off  to  one  of  the 
"  down-town  "  hotels.  And  over  them,  for  the  present,  we 
must  drop  the  curtain.  Thus  far  we  have  only  seen  the 
heartless  toying  of  the  faithless  wife.  God  forbid  that 
beyond  this  her  deeds  should  be  dragged  into  the  light ! 


On  the  following  day  Mr.  Tiverton  was  just  preparing  to 
go  out  with  Bertram  and  Aunt  Rhoda,  when  a  coach  stopped 
before  the  door,  and  going  to  the  front  parlor  window  he 
saw  the  Count  Adolphus  Gusterhausen  alight,  followed  by 
his  daughter  Isabella.  In  a  few  moments  more  they  were 
in  the  parlor. 

"  Ah — Mr.  Tiverton/'  said  the  Count,  bowing  and  twist- 
ing his  body  into  all  the  fashionable  shapes  he  could  think 
of,  "  Allow  me,  sir,  to  introduce — aw — mine  wife" 

"  YOUR  WIFE,  sir  !  "  gasped  the  merchant,  starting  back. 

"Yes,  sir.     We  were  married  last  evening." 

"  LAST  EVENING  !  "  repeated  the  astounded  man,  hardly 
able  to  credit  the  evidence  of  his  own  sense.  "  Last  even- 
ing !  And  have  you  been  away  all  night,  Isabella  ?" 

"  Yes,  pa,"  murmured  the  wife,  clinging  to  her  Count. 
"  We  are  married.  Oh  !  you  will  forgive  me  !  " 

"  Married  !  His  wife  \  Oh,  God  have  mercy  !  But  say 
— did  your  mother  know  of  this  ?  " 

"  Yes,  pa.     She  gave  me  her  consent.     Where  is  she  ?  " 

"  She  must  be  in  her  chamber.  I  have  not  seen  her  this 
morning.  But  hold — I  will  send  for  her." 

Thus  speaking  Mr.  Tiverton  rang  the  bell,  and  in  a  few 
moments  Sarah  Johnson  answered  the  summons. 

"  Sarah — go  and  tell  your  mistress  I  wish  to  se^  her  in 
the  parlor." 

"  She's  gone,  sir,"  replied  the  girl. 

"  Gone  ? — gone  where  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  sir.     She  went  away  last  night  with  some- 


THE  LAST  BLOW  IS  STRICKEN.  289 

body,  and  hain't  been  back  since.  All  her  jewelry  is  gone, 
and  all  of  her  best  things,  sir  !  " 

"  Well  ! — well !  "  gasped  the  terror-stricken  man.  "  What 
else  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  Only  that  she  went  yesterday  and  drawed  all  her  money 
out  of  the  bank,  sir  ;  and  was  busy  all  day  in  fixin'  up  her 
things." 

•'  Isabella,"  spoke  the  father  in  a  hushed  whisper,  "  Was 
your  mother  present  at  your  marriage  last  evening  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  the  daughter  replied,  now  frightened  herself, 

uAnd  who  was  there  with  her?" 

Isabella  hesitated. 

"  Tell  me,  my  child — who  was  with  her  ?  " 

"  The  Prince  !  " 

Paul  Tiverton  staggered  back  to  a  sofa,  and  sank  down. 
He  covered  his  face  with  his  hands  and  groaned  aloud. 

"  Let  me  go  up  to  her  room,"  said  Isabella. 

"  Go,"  replied  the  father. 

She  went.  She  found  it  as  Sarah  had  said.  All  the 
jewelry  was  gone,  and  also  the  most  valuable  of  her  less 
bulky  clothing.  On  the  dressing-case  she  found  a  folded 
and  sealed  note,  directed  to  herself.  She  broke  it  open, 
and  read  it  ;  and  under  the  first  impulse  of  her  disappoint- 
ment and  ill-feeling,  in  consequence  of  her  mother's  having 
gone  off  and  left  her  thus,  she  carried  the  missive  down 
and  gave  it  to  her  father.  He  opened  it,  and  read  as 
follows  : 

ISABELLA— When  you  get  this  I  shall  be  far  from  you-  You  will 
not  blame  me  for  the  steps  I  have  taken.  You  know  I  could  not  live 
happily  with  your  father.  He  is  not  suited  to  my  tastes  and  feelings. 
But  I  have  found  one  who  is.  Oh  !  you  know  the  Prince  is  a  splendid 
man.  He  loves  me  very  much.  His  love  for  me  is  a  passion.  He  is 
poetical  and  romantic  ;  and  I  know  he  will  make  me  happy.  We  shall 
go  to  Italy — that  land  of  love  and  sunshine,  where  my  life  will  pass  away 
in  pleasure  and  love.  Oh,  the  Prince  has  charmed  me,  and  I  have 
charmed  him.  I  fly  to  embrace  him  and  rest  upon  his  bosom.  If  you 
go  to  Germany  with  your  own  dear  Count,  he  may  take  you  to  Italy, 
and  we  shall  meet.  Will  it  not  be  delightful  thus  to  meet  in  that  land  of 
poetry  and  bliss  ? 

But  I  must  draw  to  a  close.  You  may  tell  your  father,  if  you  please, 
where  I  am  gone  ;  but  tell  him  it  will  be  useless  to  search  for  me.  I  do 
not  blame  him,  because  I  know  his  nature  would  not  let  him  assimilate 
to  me. 

Good  bye,  Isabella,  and  may  you  be  happy  in  your  new  relation,     J. 


290  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

must  subscribe  myself  as  I  am  hereafter  to  be  known,  for  my  old  name 
I  must  put  off.     So — as  the  happy  wife  of  the  man  whom  I  adore, 
I  subscribe  myself  your  friend  and  mother, 

JULIA  DE  TAVORA,  Princess. 

Paul  Tiverton  read  the  letter  through,  and  as  it  fell 
from  his  hands,  he  bowed  his  head,  and  remained  for  some 
moments  motionless.  Had  he  been  alone  he  would  have 
wept  ;  but  he  controlled  himself  ;  and  as  soon  as  he  dared 
to  trust  his  speech  he  arose  to  his  feet. 

"  Isabella,"  he  said.  "  you  ask  my  forgiveness.  I  grant 
it  fully  and  freely  ;  and  whenever  misfortune  may  come — 
when  the  hour  arrives  that  shall  see  you  in  want  of  love  or 
friendship,  then  come  to  me,  and  a  father's  arms  shall  be 
open  to  receive  you,  and  a  father's  heart  to  love  you  as  ever. 
But  never  come  here  again  with  this  thing  whom  you  call 
husband  !  " 

"  Sir  !  "  exclaimed  the  Count,  starting  to  his  feet. 

"  Be  easy,"  returned  the  merchant,  casting  upon  the  pop- 
injay a  look  of  ineffable  contempt.  "  I  should  dislike 
to  have  my  daughter's  husband  horsewhipped  from  the 
house — " 

"&>/'• 

—  "which  will  be  most  assuredly  done  if  you  offer  me 
one  word  of  your  insolence  !  " 

Adolphus  G.  C.  Gusterhausen  seemed  rather  fearful  of 
tempting  the  merchant  further,  for  he  sank  back  into  his 
chair,  muttering  as  he  did  so  : 

"  You  are  my  wife's  father.     That  protects  you." 

"  And,  now,  my  child,"  resumed  Tiverton,  turning  to  his 
daughter,  "  since  you  have  taken  to  yourself  a  husband  I 
suppose  you  must  cleave  to  him — at  least,  while  you  wish. 
You  know  what  I  have  said.  Your  husband  will  never 
cross  my  threshold  again  !  You  shall  be  welcome  at  any 
time." 

"But  her  portion,  sir — her  marriage  portion  !  "  murmured 
the  Count. 

"  She  must  look  to  her  husband  for  support  while  she 
lives  with  him,  sir,"  coolly  returned  the  merchant.  "  As 
for  you,  sir — you  may  from  this  time  forward  rest  assured 
that  not  one  penny  of  my  money  shall  find  its  way  to  your 
purse  !  " 

41  No  ?  "  gasped  the  Count, 


THE  LAST  BLOW  IS  STRICKEN.  291 

"  Not  a  penny,  sir  !  " 

"  Dunder  and  blixen  \  " 

"  You  understand  me,  sir  !  " 

"  Dear  Count,"  whimpered  Isabella,  turning  to  her  hus- 
band, "  you  know  you  have  money  enough.  You  did  not 
marry  me  for  my  money.  Oh,  do  not  let  pa  think  you  are 
mercenary  !  " 

"  Then  let  us  go,"  said  the  disappointed  husband,  taking 
his  wife  by  the  hand. 

Isabella  turned  toward  her  father,  and  for  a  moment  she 
hesitated. 

"  I  have  said  all  I  can  say,"  spoke  Mr.  Tiverton.  "  You 
have  chosen  your  own  pillow,  and  you  must  lie  upon  it  if 
you  will.  Yet — there  is  one  thing  more  I  will  say  :  if  you 
wish  I  will  have  you  freed  from  these  bonds  at  once." 

"  How,  sir  !  I'd  like  to  know  how  you'll  separate  a  man 
and  wife  ? "  cried  the  Count. 

"  Never  you  mind,  sir  ;  only  be  assured  I  could  do  it 
much  more  easily  than  you  can  remember  to  speak  like  a 
German  ! " 

"  Let  us  go,  my  wife,"  the  Count  said,  turning  away  to 
hide  his  confusion.  He  could  not  bear  the  keen  gaze  of 
the  man  before  him.  He  felt  uneasy  and  unsafe,  for  he  had 
a  dim  fear  that  the  merchant  could  see  beneath  the  outer 
guise  he  wore. 

"  I  will  remain  with  my  husband,"  said  Isabella.  There 
was  a  spice  of  bitterness  in  her  tone,  and  a  cloud  upon  her 
brow  ;  but  she  turned  away,  and  was  soon-  in  her  carriage 
once  more. 

It  was  severe  struggle  for  that  father.  He  would  have 
clasped  his  child  to  his  bosom,  and  bestowed  upon  her  of 
his  wealth  ;  but  he  saw  that  she  had  a  lesson  to  learn,  and 
he  was  confident  that  she  would  soon  learn  it. 

After  they  were  gone — the  Count  and  Isabella — Mr. 
Tiverton  saw  the  note  upon  the  carpet  where  he  had 
dropped  it.  He  picked  it  up  and  put  it  in  his  pocket,  and 
then  went  into  the  library,  where  he  had  left  Bertram  and 
Aunt  Rhoda. 

"  My  friends,"  he  said,  "  I  can  not  go  out  with  you  as  I 
had  hoped.  But  it  will  make  no  difference.  You  can  go 
out  to  Broadway — it  is  only  a  few  steps — and  there  take  a 
,  and  ask  the  driver  to  set  you  you  down  at  number  — f 


29*  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

It  is  well  up-town,  but  you  will  be  left  at  the  door.  If 
Orion  Lindell  is  not  in  you  will  find  his  mother  and  my 
ward,  and  they  will  either  send  for  the  young  man,  or  have 
you  remain  until  he  returns.  I  know  of  no  one  in  the  city 
who  can  help  you  in  finding  poor  Constance  better  than  he 
can.  And  there  is  one  errand  I  wish  you  to  do  for  me. 
No.  Stop — I  will  write  a  note." 

Thus  speaking,  the  merchant  sat  down  before  the  great 
walnut  secretary  and  wrote  a  short  note  which  he  folded 
and  sealed,  and  then  directed  to  Ellen  Durand. 

"  There,"  he  said,  arising  and  handing  the  note  to  Aunt 
Rhoda,  "  will  you  give  that  to  Ellen  ?  " 

The  old  lady  promised  that  she  would,  and  then  Mr. 
Tiverton  waited  upon  them  to  the  door,  and  having  once 
more  directed  them  how  to  proceed,  they  departed. 

Just  as  the  merchant  turned  back  into  the  hall,  he  met 
his  coachman,  who  informed  him  that  the  horses  were  ready 
to  be  harnessed. 

"I  shall  not  want  them,  Thomas.  And — look  you— 
tell  the  servants  that  I  am  home  to  no  one  save  Ellen 
Durand  or  Orion  Lindell.  To  all  others  I  am  not  at 
home." 

After  this,  Paul  Tiverton  sought  his  library  once  more  ; 
and  having  bolted  the  doors,  he  sank  down  upon  the  long 
couch.  He  drew  fv:th  that  fatal  letter,  and  read  it  once 
more  ;  and  the.:,  with  his  head  bowed,  and  his  hands 
clasped  tightly  over  his  face,  he  burst  into  tears. 

"  Oh,  Julia  !  Julia  !  "  he  groaned,  "  thou  hast  stricken 
the  last  blow  ;  and  from  this  time  forth  thy  grave  is  digged  ! 
And  thou  hast  done  it !  Poor  ignorant  Julia  !  Oh  !  thou 
wert  forced  upon  me — " 

The  sentence  was  cut  short,  for  he  would  not  speak  the 
words  that  had  arisen  in  his  thoughts.  He  remembered 
how  Julia  Church  had  been  forced  upon  him,  and  how  she 
had  schemed  to  obtain  his  hand.  And  the  thoughts  came 
now  with  peculiar  power. 


There  is  one  more  scene  which  we  must  crowd  into  this 
chapter. 

At  the  very  hour  on  which  Julia  Tiverton  was  riding 
away  towards  the  hotel  with  the  Prince,  Duffy  dicker  en- 


THE  LAST  BLOW'  IS  STRICKEN.  *<)$ 

tered  the  house  in  Cow  Bay,  where  he  had  left  his  prison- 
ers. He  had  a  small,  dark  lantern,  which  we  have  seen 
him  use  before,  and  also  a  latch-key  to  the  door.  He  en- 
tered, and  in  the  hall  he  pulled  off  his  boots. 

"  If  I  can  get  up  without  makin'  any  noise,"  he  said  to 
himself,  "  I  may  catch  her  afore  she  can  grab  that  pistol  of 
her'n." 

And  with  this  intent  he  crept  up-stairs,  as  noiselessly  as 
possible,  When  he  had  reached  the  door  of  the  chamber 
where  he  had  left  his  prize,  he  was  not  a  little  astonished 
to  find  the  bolts — one  at  the  top  and  one  at  the  bottom — 
both  drawn.  Yet  he  opened  it  as  easily  as  possible,  and 
glided  in.  His  first  look  at  the  bed  revealed  the  fact  that 
it  was  empty.  He  gazed  all  around,  but  his  prisoners  were 
not  there.  In  a  fury  he  dashed  out  of  the  chamber,  and 
started  for  the  basement  in  search  of  the  landlady.  When 
he  reached  the  hall  he  found  two  men  there,  whom  he  had 
not  seen  on  entering,  and  whom  he  would  gladly  have 
avoided  now — for  they  were  policemen. 

"  Ah— this  is  Mr.  Glicker,  I  believe/'  said  one  of 
them. 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  villain  ;  "  and  I  want  to  find  Harm 
Golden/' 

"  We  will  take  you  to  the  very  place  where  she  is  stop- 
ping, sir,"  rejoined  one  of  the  officers,  and  at  the  same  time 
taking  from  his  pocket  a  pair  of  handcuffs.  "  Come — 
no  waste  of  time,  now.  The  woman  who  kept  this  place 
and  all  her  people  are  in  the  Tombs,  and  you  must  go 
with  us." 

Glicker  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  seemed  inclined 
to  resist  ;  but  he  soon  came  to  his  senses,  and  allowed  the 
ornaments  to  be  placed  on  his  wrists. 

"  Now  where  is  my  wife  ? "  he  asked,  when  this  was 
done. 

"  Who  was  your  wife  ?  "  asked  one  of  the  police. 

"  The  woman  that  was  in  the  right-hand  back  room  on 
the  next  floor." 

"  Oh — Mrs.  Milmer,  you  mean  ? — She  that  used  to  live 
over  Crown's  groggery,  and  lost  her  husband  there  ? " 

'•  Yes — only  she's  Mrs.  Glicker  now." 

"  Well— I  guess  she's  free  by  this  time.  I  saw  Peggy 
Warling  not  long  since,  and  she  told  me  the  whole  story, 


294  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

She  took  a  young  fellow  named  Lindell  up  there— a  gold 
beater,  I  think  he  is — 

"  Aye — and  a  Duffy  Glicker  beater,  too,  I  reckon,"  added 
the  second  policeman,  with  a  laugh. 

The  villain  swore  terribly  when  he  found  that  Orion  Lin- 
dell  had  again  thwarted  him  ;  but  the  officers  soon  put  a 
stop  to  his  cursing,  and  then  led  him  off  towards  the 
Tombs. 

"  Won't  you  tell  me  now  the  young  rat  found  out 
that  the  widder  was  there  ?  "  asked  the  prisoner  on  the 
way. 

"  He  didn't  know  it  until  he  reached  the  room,"  returned 
the  officer.  "  An  enemy  of  his  sought  to  harm  him,  and  to 
that  end  hired  Peg  Warling  to  entice  him  to  her  room,  and 
have  him  there  about  the  time  we  came  down  upon  the 
house.  But,  you  see,  it  all  turned  out  the  other  way.  Peg 
used  to  usex  that  room,  so  she  took  Lindell  there.  You  see 
it  now/' 

Glicker  saw  it  very  plainly,  and  once  more  the  officers 
were  obliged  to  stop  him  from  cursing  and  swearing. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

REUNION. — THE    STRICKEN. 

MRS.  LINDELL  sat  in  her  comfortable  parlor,  and 
with  her  were  Ellen  Durand,  Constance  Milmer,  and 
little  Lizzie.  They  were  very  happy,  though  their 
joy  was  calm  and  subdued.  Constance  had  been  telling 
over  again  some  of  the  fearful  scenes  through  which  she 
had  passed,  and  was  just  speaking  of  Orion's  nobleness  of 
heart  for  the  hundredth  time,  when  one  of  the  stages 
stopped  at  the  gate,  and  in  a  moment  more  a  middle-aged, 
or  elderly,  man  and  an  old  woman  got  out.  As  they  started 
up  the  walk  towards  the  house  Mrs.  Lindell  arose  and  went 
to  the  door  to  meet  them.  They  were  Frank  Bertram  and 
Aunt  Rhoda. 

"  Is  this  Mrs.  Lindell's  house  ?  "  asked  the  former,  as 
they  reached  the  door-stone. 

"  It  is — and  that  is  my  name,"  returned  the  mistress. 
(<  Won't  you  walk  in  ?  " 


REUNION— THE  STRICKEN.  295 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Bertram.  "  Mr.  Tiverton  sent  us  up 
here.  We  wanted  to  see  your  son.  But  we'll  tell  you  all 
about  it  when  we  get  set  down." 

Mrs.  Lindell  conducted  them  at  once  to  the  parlor,  and 
offered  them  seats.  Constance  and  Ellen  arose  and  bowed 
very  politely,  and  the  former  was  about  to  resume  her  seat 
when  something  in  the  face  and  form  of  the  old  woman  ar- 
rested her  attention. 

Constance  was  eight  years  of  age  when  she  was  left  by 
Aunt  Rhoda  ;  and  from  eight  to  twenty-seven  is  quite  a 
change.  But  Aunt  Rhoda  was  sixty  when  she  went  away  ; 
and  from  sixty  to  eighty-three  had  not  been  so  much  of  a 
change  but  the  eye  of  Constance  caught  familiar  features. 

The  young  widow  moved  forward,  and  tremblingly  laid 
her  hand  upon  the  old  woman's  shoulder. 

"  Pardon  me,"  she  whispered,  much  agitated  ;  '•  but  tell 
me  if  I  am  deceived.  Is  not  this  Rhoda  Church  ?" 

"  That  is  my  name,"  the  aged  female  answered,  gazing 
sharply  into  her  interlocutor's  face. 

"  And  don't  you  know  me,  grandmother  ? "  Don't  you 
remember  your  little  Constance  ?  " 

"  What  !  "  screamed  the  old  lady,  fairly  leaping  from  the 
floor,  and  then  grasping  Constance  by  both  shoulders. 
"  You  my  little  Constance  ?  You  are  !  You  are  !  Oho — 
I  know  ye  now  !  Constance — my  own  darling  ! — oh,  I 
know  ye  now  !  " 

"  And  we  meet  once  more  here  on  earth  ! "  murmured 
the  young  widow,  while  the  warm  tears  streamed  down  her 
cheeks. 

"  Meet,  you  said  ? "  cried  Aunt  Rhoda,  absolutely  danc- 
ing up  and  down  like  a  pleased  child.  "  What  once  more  ? 
Ha,  ha,  ha, — and  somebody  else  meets,  too.  Aye — SOME- 
BODY ELSE  meets,  too  !  Frank  Bertram,  come  here  !  Come 
here,  I  tell  ye !  It's  yer  own  child  ! — your  own  flesh  and 
blood  ! — yer  own  darling — yer  own  little  Constance  !  Oho  ! 
here's  your  father,  my  love  !  " 

Constance  turned,  and  she  saw  a  noble-faced  man — a 
man  in  the  prime  of  life,  upon  whose  brow  were  lines  of 
care,  and  upon  whose  head  was  premature  frost.  His  arms 
were  half-opened,  leaving  a  broad,  full,  manly  breast  ex- 
posed, while  down  his  browned  cheeks  big  tears  were  roll- 
ing. In  an  instant  all  the  mighty  love  of  her  heart  went 


396  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEA  TER. 

forth  to  that  man,  and  had  she  know  him  for  long  years  hef 
affection  could  not  have  been  more  firmly  set  upon  him. 

"  Constance — my  child  !  " 

So  spoke  the  wanderer,  and  the  word  that  came  back  in 
reply  was  the  sweetest  word  that  ever  dropped  its  fragrance 
upon  his  soul : 

"  Father !  " 

And  while  those  two  remained  for  some  moments  clasped 
in  each  other's  embrace,  Aunt  Rhoda  set  at  defiance  all 
the  laws  of  old  age  and  decrepitude  by  dancing  about  the 
room  in  a  manner  that  was  wondrous  to  behold. 

"  Why — they  told  us  you  was  in  the  power  of  a  wicked 
man,"  said  the  old  woman,  after  Constance  and  her  father 
had  resumed  their  seats. 

"  So  1  was/'  answered  the  happy  daughter,  wiping  the 
streaming  tears  from  her  cheeks  ;  "  but  Mr.  Lindell  set  me 
free." 

"  Mr.  Lindell?"  uttered  Aunt  Rhoda,  with  some  surprise. 
"  Why,  if  what  Mr.  Tiverton  tells  us  is  true  the  young  man 
must  have  a  sort  of — what  is  it  ye  calls  this  stuff  that  draws 
needles,  and  nails,  and  such  things  ? " 

"  Magnetism,"  suggested  Ellen. 

"  Yes — that  is  it.  I  should  think  he'd  got  a  magne-#V 
attraction  towards  ye." 

"  It  would  seem  so,"  returned  Constance.  "  But,"  she 
added,  with  a  devout  look  and  tone,  '*  I  think  God  has  been 
very  kind." 

"  So  he  has,"  murmured  Bertram  warmly. 

After  this  there  was  a  long  pause.  Constance  trembled 
violently,  for  a  question  had  arisen  to  her  lips  which  came 
from  a  fearful  source — fearful  to  her,  and  she  felt,  fearful 
to  others.  She  turned  to  Aunt  Rhoda,  and  in  a  convulsive 
whisper  she  asked  : 

"  My  mother  ! — have  you  seen  her  ?  " 

"  Not  this  time,  Constance.  But  I  saw  her  before. 
Think  of  her  no  more.  Try  to  feel  that  she  is  dead." 

"  Aye,"  murmured  Bertram.  "  Try  to  think  she  died 
when  you  were  a  babe,  my  child," 

"  Her  mother  !  "  uttered  Ellen,  starting  forward  just  as 
Bertram  had  clasped  little  Lizzie  to  his  bosom,  and  placing 
her  hand  upon  the  old  woman's  shoulder,  "  Tell  me  !  oh  ! 
tell  me!" 


REUNION— THE  STRICKEN.  297 

"  Don't  you  guess  ? " 

"  Yes— but  I  dare  not  speak  it !  " 

"  Then  you  are  right.  The  woman  whom  Paul  Tiverton 
married,  supposing  her  to  be  a  maiden,  was  then  the 
mother  of  a  living  child.  But  mind  you — she  thought  her 
first  husband  dead." 

"His  wife  !  "  murmured  Mrs.  Lindell,  pale  and  trembling. 
"  His  wife  the  mother  of  Constance,  and  a  wife  already 
when  he  married  her  ! " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Rhoda. 

The  hostess  clasped  her  hands  over  her  heart  and  started 
to  her  feet.  She  was  pale  as  death,  and  trembled  violently; 
and  without  another  word  she  tottered  from  the  room. 

At  this  juncture  Aunt  Rhoda  remembered  the  note  she 
had  from  the  merchant  for  Ellen,  and  taking  it  from  her 
pocket  she  handed  it  to  her.  The  fair  girl  broke  the  seal,, 
and  recognized  the  handwriting  of  her  guardian,  but  it  was 
a  tremulous,  nervous  scrawl  for  his  pen,  and  she  thought 
she  saw  tear-marks  upon  the  paper.  It  read  as  follows  : 

MY  OWN  DEAR  ELLEN  : — When  you  get  this  come  to  me  at  once. 
I  am  alone — all  alone  !  Oh  !  if  you  love  me,  come.  Come  as  soon  as 
you  can.  From  thy  smile,  at  least,  the  joy  is  not  gone.  Come  and  let 
me  see  it.  You  will  come,  I  know  you  will.  TIVERTON. 

Ellen  read  this  over  the  second  time,  and  tears  started 
from  her  eyes  as  she  folded  it  up.  A  dim  glimmering  of 
the  truth  broke  in  upon  her.  She  arose  and  left  the  room. 
She  found  Mrs.  Lindell  in  the  kitchen  weeping. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  she  asked,  throwing  her  arms  about  the 
widow's  neck.  "  Why  do  you  weep  ? " 

"  You  must  not  ask  me.  Let  it  pass.  If  you  love  me, 
strive  to  forget  that  you  found  me  thus." 

"  I  will,  my  dear  friend — I  will.  I  will  not  be  gone  long 
— at  least  without  coming  to  see  you  ! " 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?" 

"  To  Mr.  Tiverton.  He  has  sent  for  me.  He  is  un- 
happy, I  know.  Oh  !  he  is  a  noble  man  ! — one  of  the  best 
— one  of  the  most  pure  arid  generous-hearted  men  that  ever 
lived  on  earth.  I  must  go  at  once  ;  but  you  shall  hear 
from  me." 

"  Very  well,  Ellen.  Go — and  may  the  blessing  and  care 
of  God  go  with  you  !  " 


29&  ORION,   THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

"  Thank  you/'  murmured  the  fair  girl,  once  more  wind- 
ing her  arms  about  the  woman's  neck  and  kissing  her. 
"  And  those  old  people,"  she  added,  after  she  had  wiped 
away  her  tears — "  they  will  remain  till  Orion  comes." 

"  Certainly — and  as  much  longer  as  they  please.  I  shall 
love  them." 

After  this  Ellen  prepared  for  her  departure  as  soon  as 
possible,  and  having  bade  her  hostess  to  inform  Orion 
where  she  had  gone,  and  also  promised  the  others  that  she 
should  soon  see  them  again,  she  kissed  Constance  and 
little  Lizzie,  and  then  left  the  house,  and  took  the  first 
stage  that  came  along. 

When  she  reached  her  guardian's  house  she  rang  the  bell, 
and  Sarah  Johnson  answered  the  summons. 

"  Oh — my  dear,  good,  kind  lady,"  cried  Sarah,  "  I'm  so 
glad  to  see  you." 

"  Is  Mr.  Tiverton  in  ?  "  the  young  lady  asked,  not  a  little 
puzzled  to  account  for  this  sudden  change  in  Sarah's 
manner — for  my  lady's  maid  had  always  followed  in  the 
wake  of  her  mistress,  and  treated  the  fair  ward  rather 
coolly. 

"  He  is,  my  dear,  good  lady.  I'll  go  and  call  him  at 
once." 

"  No— tell  me  where  he  is." 

The  girl  hesitated  a  moment,  for  she  evidently  had  a 
desire  to  witness  the  meeting  between  her  master  and 
Ellen.  But  she  soon  concluded  that  if  she  would  have  the 
least  hope  of  retaining  her  place  she  must  now  obey  readily 
the  one  who  might  possibly  take  the  head  of  the  establish- 
ment. So  she  informed  the  caller  that  the  merchant  was 
in  the  library. 

Ellen  waited  to  hear  no  more,  but  proceeding  at  once  to 
the  door  of  the  library,  she  gave  a  light  rap. 

"Who  is  it  ? "  said  a  voice  from  within. 

Surely  that  could  not  be  Paul  Tiverton's  voice  !  At 
least,  so  thought  Ellen.  She  had  not  seen  him  since  his 
return  from  the  country,  and  she  hesitated  ere  she  could 
possibly  convince  herself  that  it  was  his  voice  she  had 
heard.  However,  she  placed  her  hand  upon  the  knob  ; 
but  she  found  the  door  fast. 

"  Who  is  it  ? "  repeated  the  voice. 

It  could  not  be  Paul  Tiverton's  voice, 


REUNION— THE   STRICKEN.  299 

"  I  wish  to  see — " 

But  Ellen  was  not  permitted  to  finish  the  sentence,  for 
at  the  first  sound  of  her  voice  the  inmate  sprang  to  the 
,door  and  threw  it  open. 

"  Ellen  !  Ellen  !  Oh,  my  own  sweet  Nelly  ! — you  have 
come  to  see  me  !  "  He  caught  her  in  his  arms  as  he  spoke, 
and  pressed  her  to  his  bosom.  She  felt  warm  tears  drop- 
ping upon  her  shoulder,  and  when  she  gazed  up  she  found 
him  weeping. 

"  My  dear,  dear,  generous  guardian,"  she  cried,  "  what 
has  happened  ? " 

"  Sit  down — sit  down,  Ellen,"  he  said,  resuming  his  own 
seat,  and  wiping  the  tears  from  his  face.  "  Did  you  learn 
nothing  from  either  of  those  people  who  came  up  there  ? " 

"Yes— I  did." 

"  And  how  much  ?  " 

"  That  Mr.  Bertram  was  Aunt  Julia's  first — " 

"  Call  her  aunt  no  more,  Ellen  !  " 

"  Well,  sir — I  learned  that  he  was  her  first  husband,  and 
that  Constance  Milmer  was  her  own  child." 

«  Aye — so  much  you  have  learned — but  no  more  ?  " 

"  No  more,  my  guardian." 

"  And  did  you  know  that  poor  Constance  had  again  been 
taken  by  the  villain  who  has  so  long  persecuted  her  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir — I  knew  that  she  was  taken.  But  she  has  been 
rescued." 

"  Rescued  ?     Do  you  know  it  ? " 

"  I  do.     I  left  her  at  Mrs.  Lindell's  when  I  came  away." 

"  Oh,  thank  God  for  that ! "  devoutly  ejaculated  the 
merchant.  •'  At  Mrs.  Lindell's,  you  say  ? " 

"Yes,  sir." 

»     "  And  how  was  she  saved  ? " 
\     "  Orion  did  it." 

"  Orion  ?  By  the  power  of  truth,  but  he  is  one  of 
nature's  kings  !  But  how  did  he  do  it." 

Ellen  related  all  the  circumstances  as  she  had  heard 
them  from  both  Orion  and  Constance.  She  told  the  plot 
of  Jasper  Thornton — how  he  had  sent  Peggy  Warling  to 
entice  Orion  to  seeming  shame,  and  how  it  had  ail  turned 
out  for  real  good. 

"  So  Mr.  Thornton  begins  to  be  jealous,  does  he  ?  But 
he'll  soon  run  his  race.  And  now  tell  me  one  more 


300  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEA  TER. 

Ellen.  Do  you  know  how  the  poor  widow  was  thrown  into 
that  man's  power  ?  " 

"  If  you  would  know,  I  can  tell  you,  sir." 

"  I  would  know,  Ellen." 

"  Then  I  must  tell  you  a  tale  of  wrong  in  which  Mrs. 
Tiverton  acted  a  leading  part." 

"  Go  on,"  said  the  merchant,  with  a  shudder. 

So  the  fair  girl  went  on  and  related  all  the  circumstances 
attending  Mrs.  Milmer's  being  enticed  into  the  villain's 
power. 

Mr.  Tiverton  pondered  awhile  in  silence,  and  then  gazed 
once  more  into  his  companion's  face. 

"  There's  one  more  thing  I  would  know,"  he  said.  "  I 
would  know  why,  and  how,  you  left  this  house  ?  " 

And  thereupon  Ellen  told  the  story  of  Orion's  repulsion 
from  the  house,  and  her  own  interviews  with  the  lady. 

"  Alas  !  and  is  it  possible  that  she  has  been  so  cruel  !  " 
the  unhappy  man  groaned,  with  his  hands  clasped.  "I 
knew  she  was  cruel  to  me,  but  I  dreamed  not  that  she  was 
so  hard-hearted.  Oh  !  I  could  bear — but  I  have  some- 
thing more  to  tell  you.  Here  read  this.  It  was  found 
upon  her  dressing-case  this  morning." 

As  the  merchant  spoke  he  took  the  note  from  his  pocket 
— the  note  which  Isabella  had  given  him — and  having 
clutched  it  in  his  hand  a  moment  as  though  fearful  of  let- 
ting it  go,  he  handed  it  to  Ellen.  She  took  it  and  read  it 
— she  read  it  once — then  wept — and  then  read  it  again  ; 
and  when  she  had  read  it  the  second  time  she  handed  it 
back  to  her  guardian.  He  gazed  into  her  face,  but  did  not 
speak.  The  silence  was  becoming  painful  when  Ellen  spoke  : 

"  My  dear  guardian," — and  she  arose  and  threw  her 
arms  about  his  neck — "  you  must  not  weep  any  more." 

"  Oh,  Ellen  ! — I  could  bear  the  grief — I  could  bear  it  and 
be  content  ;  but  oh,  the  shame  ! — the  shame,  Ellen,  which 
must  cling  to  her  name,  and  overshadow  me  with  its 
darkness  !  " 

"  No,  no,  my  good  guardian.  Those  who  know  you — 
who  know  you  well — those  who  are  your  friends — must 
know  the  character  of  the  faithless  woman  ;  and  as  sure  as 
God  rules  over  us  you  will  have  their  sympathy  and  esteem. 
Those  who  will  feel  differently  are  such  as  you  need  not 
care  for.  Will  you  not  think  of  it  in  this  light  ?  " 


REUNION— THE   STRICKEN.  30! 

"Bless  you,  Nelly!  bless  you  !  "  cried  the  stricken  man, 
earnestly.  "  I  knew  you  would  give  me  comfort.  Oh,  it 
was — it  is — a  dark  path  for  me  !  " 

"  I  know  it  must  be,  guardian  ;  but  still  remember  that 
the  sensible  and  truthful  will  honor  you  as  ever,  and  as  you 
bear  yourself  before  the  world  so  will  its  people  judge  you. 
Show  them  a  firm,  stern  front,  and  they  will  bow  before 
you.  Let  them  see  that  you  are  stricken  and  crushed,  and 
they  will  laugh  and  jeer." 

"  I  know  you  speak  the  truth,  my  darling." 

"  I  think  I  do,  guardian.  But  tell  me — Who  is  this 
Prince  ?  " 

"  A  needy  adventurer  who  has  by  some  means  discov- 
ered that  my  wife  had  some  money  of  her  own,  and  who 
has  contrived  to  put  himself  in  a  way  to  obtain  it.  I  am 
sure  it  is  so." 

"  And  Isabella — where  is  she  ?  " 

"  Gone  !  She  was  married  last  night  to  that  miserable 
swindler  who  has  been  so  long  about  palming  himself  off  for  a 
Count !  Her  mother  was  present  at  the  ceremony,  and 
after  it  was  concluded  rode  away  with  her  Prince  !  Isa- 
bella came  here  this  forenoon  with  her  husband.  He  had 
the  face  to  ask  for  her  marriage  portion  ;  but  I  assured 
him  that  he  should  never  have  one  penny  of  mine.  Oh,  it 
was  a  hard  blow  !  Hard — hard — very  hard  !  I  wanted  to 
keep  my  child — I  wished  to  save  her — I  wished  to  give  her 
money  ;  but  too  well  I  knew  that  every  shilling  given  to 
her  would  only  go  to  the  pocket  of  the  swindler,  and  I 
would  not  do  it.  I  knew  that  she  needed  a  lesson  ;  and 
she  will  surely  receive  it — stern  and  harsh.  I  told  her  that 
my  door  should  be  ever  open  to  her — that  my  heart  should 
be  always  hers,  and  ever  ready  to  embrace  her  with  its  love. 
It  was  hard  to  see  her  go,  but  I  could  not  help  it  !  She 
will  come  back,  I  feel  sure  of  it." 

"  I  think  she  will,"  returned  Ellen. 

"  And  now,  Ellen,  darling,  you  will  not  leave  me.  You 
will  stay  with  me  awhile.  Let  Orion  come  when  he  can. 
Let  him  come  every  evening.  Say  that  you  will  not  leave 
me.  Oh  !  I  should  be  very  miserable  all  alone." 

"  I  will  stop,  guardian." 

The  stout  man  pressed  the  fair  girl  once  more  to  his 


302  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

bosom,  and  while  the  tears  streamed  down  his  cheeks  anew 
he  blessed  her  over  and  over  again. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

A  RECORD. 

summer  time  came,  with  its  warm  breath  and  gen- 
J[  ial  sunshine,  and  the  life  of  the  great  city  rolled  on  as 
ever.  Paul  Tiverton  was  to  be  found  daily  in  his 
counting-house,  and  the  tide  of  wealth  was  setting  in  upon 
him  strongly — more  strongly  than  ever  before.  Before  the 
world  he  was  cold  and  stern,  bearing  his  great  calamity 
with  dignity  ;  and  few  people  who  came  in  contact  with 
him  dreamed  of  the  tender,  affectionate  heart  that  beat  in 
his  bosom.  But  at  his  house — in  the  society  of  his  faithful 
ward — he  was  another  being.  His  love  shone  forth  brightly, 
and  the  fountain  of  his  feelings  was  not  checked  :  Ellen 
sang  for  him,  and  read  for  him,  and  in  many  little  ways 
did  she  contrive  to  please  and  entertain  him.  He  loved 
that  generous  girl  with  the  whole  love  of  his  great  soul, 
and,  with  one  exception,  he  never  seemed  so  happy  as  when 
she  was  by  his  side.  That  exception  was,  when  Orion 
Lindell  was  there  with  her.  The  young  gold-beater  came 
often  to  visit  them,  and  the  love  and  esteem  which  the 
wealthy  merchant  seemed  to  feel  for  him  was  as  strange  as 
it  was  deep  and  abiding. 

Months  had  rolled  away  ;  the  last  breath  of  the  summer 
time  was  fanning  the  bursting  ear  and  the  blushing  fruit  ; 
and  yet  no  word  had  been  heard  from  the  fugitive  wife, 
nor  from  the  lost  daughter.  Their  names  were  never  men- 
tioned by  the  merchant,  save  to  God  when  he  prayed,  and 
if,  when  out  in  the  world,  a  friend  chanced  to  ask  of  them, 
his  only  answer  was  a  sad  shake  of  the  head,  accompanied 
by  a  look  which  plainly  implored  that  nothing  more  might 
be  said  on  the  subject.  He  knew  not  whether  they  lived 
on  earth  or  in  the  world  of  spirits. 

One  thing  was  plain  to  Ellen  Durand.  She  knew  that 
the  loss  of  the  wife  and  daughter  was  not  all  that  weighed 
{icavily  upon  her  guardian's  mind.  She  thought  at  times 


A  RECORD.  3°3 

that  there  was  something  which  lay  far  deeper  in  his  soul 
than  his  present  bereavement.  Once  he  had  inadvertently 
made  some  allusion  to  his  strange  visit  to  the  country — the 
visit  he  made  just  before  the  calamity  fell  upon  him.  He 
spoke  of  it  during  one  of  his  melancholy  fits,  and  said 
enough  to  convince  his  ward  that  about  that  visit  there 
were  deep  and  important  memories  clinging.  But  he 
stopped  as  soon  as  he  remembered  what  he  was  saying,  and 
turned  away  to  hide  the  the  tears  that  started  to  his  eyes. 
Yet  Ellen  asked  no  questions.  She  saw  there  was  some- 
thing which  he  wished  to  keep  to  himself,  and  she  never 
showed  that  she  had  noticed  any  thing  unusual. 

Though  Orion  came  so  often  to  the  merchant's  house, 
yet  the  latter  never  returned  the  visits.  The  youth  had 
often  invited  him  to  call,  but  his  only  answer  was  a  faint, 
unhappy  smile,  and  a  shake  of  the  head. 

At  the  home  of  Orion  and  his  mother  room  had  been 
made  for  Frank  Bertram,  Aunt  Rhoda,  Constance  and  her 
child.  Constance  found  plenty  of  sewing  to  do,  and  as 
she  preferred  to  be  busy  she  found  pleasure  in  earning  her 
own  livelihood.  Aunt  Rhoda  had  money  enough  to  pay 
her  way  very  comfortably,  and  as  for  Bertram  he  accepted 
a  handsome  sum  which  came  to  him  through  the  hand  of 
Orion.  He  knew  well  that  Tiverton  sent  it,  but  he  did  not 
refuse  it. 

Mr.  Duffy  Glicker  was  sent  over  to  the  "  Island,"  and 
came  very  near  making  his  escape  on  the  third  day  after 
his  imprisonment.  He  broke  from  his  cell  and  gained  the 
water,  but  he  was  taken  again  by  some  of  the  officers  in  a 
boat.  The  bath  proved  a  fatal  one  for  him.  A  severe  cold 
came  upon  him — fever  set  in — and  he  died  ;  and  when,  a 
few  days  afterwards,  Orion  carried  home  a  paper  contain- 
ing an  account  of  his  death,  Constance  wore  a  new  smile  of 
peace  upon  her  sweet  face,  for  she  had  not  ceased  to  fear 
that  man  until  she  heard  of  his  departure  from  earth. 

And  there  was  one  other  occurrence  during  that  summer- 
time which  deserves  notice.  One  Saturday  evening  a 
number  of  gamesters  were  assembled  in  the  very  room 
where  we  saw  poor  Barnes  fleeced  out  of  his  money.  The 
brandy  bottle  passed  freely,  and  money  changed  hands 
rapidly.  At  length  a  dispute  rose.  Mat  Mayburn  accused 
Jasper  Thornton  of  hiding  cards  about  his  person,  and  thus 


ORION,  THE  GOLD  BE  A  TER. 

making  up  an  unfair  hand.  Thornton  denied  the  charge. 
The  lie  was  given  and  returned — blows  followed — and 
finally  Mayburn  drew  a  knife.  Those  who  saw  the  move- 
mant  caught  his  hand,  but  not  before  he  had  stricken  one 
blow  upon  his  adversary.  Thornton  cried  out  that  he  was 
stabbed,  and  as  soon  as  Mayburn  could  be  secured  the 
wounded  man  was  led  away.  A  phsician  was  sent  for,  who 
was  informed  that  the  stab  had  been  received  in  a  street 
affray.  The  wound  was  a  bad  one,  the  knife  having  entered 
between  the  third  and  fourth  ribs,  on  the  right  side,  and 
perforated  the  lung. 

The  poor  man  lingered  along  several  days,  and  finally 
died  in  intense  agony.  Both  Orion  and  Ellen  shuddered 
when  they  heard  of  his  death,  but  they  could  not  sorrow. 
They  knew  that  the  world  was  better  off  without  him,  and 
that  he  could  not  be  more  miserable  in  death  than  he  had 
been  in  life. 

Mr.  Garvey,  the  man  for  whom  Orion  worked,  and  who 
had  been  for  some  years  a  widower,  having  lost  his  wife 
within  a  year  of  his  marriage,  had  paid  several  visits  to  the 
home  of  his  young  foreman.  Gradually  his  visits  became 
more  frequent,  and  finally  he  and  Constance  used  to  walk 
out  together.  Ah,  he  loved  the  beautiful  young  widow — 
loved  her  truly  and  fondly.  Not  only  did  he  see  that  she 
was  lovely  in  face  and  form  ;  but  he  found  that  her  heart 
was  pure,  and  her  soul  elevated  and  noble.  He  confessed 
his  love — he  offered  her  his  heart  and  his  hand — and 
upon  his  bosom,  with  warm  tears  rolling  down  her 
cheeks,  she  returned  his  love,  and  gave  herself  up  to  his 
keeping,  once  more  to  be  a  wife — aye,  and  a  happy,  joyous 
wife. 

One  evening — it  was  the  last  day  of  summer — as  Mr. 
Tiverton  and  Ellen  sat  in  the  library,  the  postman  brought 
a  letter  for  the  merchant  which  was  handed  in  by  one  of 
the  servants.  He  opened  it,  and  as  he  read  on  a  fearful 
tremor  shook  his  frame.  When  he  had  finished  it  a  deep 
groan  escaped  from  his  lips,  and  for  some  moments  he 
remained  with  his  head  bowed,  and  the  letter  hanging  by 
his  side.  By  and  by  he  read  it  over  again,  and  then  handed 
it  to  Ellen. 

"  Read  it,"  he  said  in  a  convulsive  whisper. 

The  fair  girl  took  it  and  read  as  follows : 


A   RECORD.  3°S 

NEW  ORLEANS,  AUG.  i6th,  18 — 

MR.  PAUL  TIVERTON  :  Dear  Sir — There  is  a  woman  here,  lying  sick 
with  fever,  and  general  prostration,  who  says  she  is  your  wife.  She 
wishes  to  see  you  very  much.  She  is  now  at  our  hospital,  and  everything 
in  our  power  will  be  done  for  her.  We  found  her  in  the  street,  weak 
and  faint,  but  she  will  not  tell  us  how  she  came  so,  though  from  another 
source  I  think  we  have  learned  the  truth.  I  took  her  to  the  hospital, 
and  have  assumed  the  responsibility  of  her  charge.  Yours  very  truly, 

SERGEANT  L.  COMSTOCK. 

When  Ellen  read  this  she  folded  it  up  and  handed  it  back 
to  her  guardian. 

"  What  will  you  do  ? "  she  asked. 

"  I  shall  go  at  once,"  the  merchant  replied.  "  There  is 
a  steamer  ready  to  sail  now  for  Mobile.  She  leaves  to- 
morrow. I  shall  go  out  in  her." 

"  Do  you  know  this  Mr.  Comstock  ?  " 

"  Yes.  He  is  one  of  my  old  customers.  He  buys  largely 
of  me  every  year.  I  shall  go  at  once.  I  must  be  ready 
to-night." 

Preparations  were  made,  and  at  ten  o'clock  on  the  follow- 
ing day  Paul  Tiverton  was  on  board  the  steamer.  At 
half-past  ten  he  shook  hands  with  Orion,  and  promised  to 
write  as  soon  as  he  got  there. 

Time  passed  on,  and  Ellen  Durand  was  sole  mistress  of 
the  great  house.  She  had  company  part  of  the  time,  and 
very  often  some  of  her  female  friends  remained  with  her 
over  night.  At  length  she  received  a  letter  from  her  guar- 
dian, and  going  away  to  the  library  and  shutting  herself  in, 
she  broke  the  seal  and  read  as  follows  : 

NEW  ORLEANS,  SEPT.  2oth,  18 — . 

MY  OWN  DEAR  NELLY  :  — I  reached  this  far-off  city  safely  and  in  good 
season.  Of  my  experience  in  other  matters  I  will  tell  you  in  person  ; 
but  herein  I  must  write  what  I  fear  I  could  not  tell.  When  I  reached 
this  place  I  found  that  Julia  had  been  dead  over  two  weeks.  It  was 
she,  alas  !  and  she  had  been  poor  and  miserable  !  Her  clothing  was 
left — the  same  that  she  wore  away  from  home,  The  fellow  who  brought 
her  away — who  represented  himself  as  a  prince — proved  to  be  a  Missis- 
sippi gambler  of  the  most  desperate  character.  He  took  her  to  this  place, 
and  having  got  all  her  money  and  jewels  from  her  he  deserted  her.  I 
think  he  has  gone  to  Cuba.  He  will  never  come  here  again,  as  the 
authorities  are  anxious  to  apprehend  him.  His  real  name  is  Bernard 
Tavora.  Without  money,  and  a  total  stranger  in  a  strange  land,  poor 
Julia  wandered  forth  into  the  streets,  and  sank  down  faint  and  weary 
upon  the  sidewalk  !  The  place  of  her  lowly  rest  chanced  to  be  in  front 
of  my  friend's  store,  and  he  took  her  up  and  carried  her  to  the  hospital, 


3°6  ORION,   THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

where  she  was  cared  for  as  well  as  could  be.  But  her  frame  was  too 
much  shattered  to  withstand  the  shock.  She  sank  to  sleep  in  the 
embrace  of  death  three  days  after  Comstock  mailed  his  letter.  I  visited 
the  place  where  her  remains  were  placed,  and  have  caused  a  marble  slab, 
with  her  simple  name,  and  the  motto — "REST  IN  PEACE,"  incribed 
thereon. 

I  feel  better  now.  I  would  rather  know  that  she  rests  as  she  does 
than  to  think  that  she  was  still  living  in  shame  and  infamy.  She  has 
passed  away — she  is  gone  now — and  henceforth  I  shall  try  to  feel  that 
she  never  lived.  I  am  strong  and  well,  and  shall  return  by  the  first 
steamer. 

You  may  show  this  to  Orion,  and  leave  him  free  to  use  the  informa- 
tion as  his  own  judgment  shall  dictate.  Yet  show  it  to  no  one  else. 

Your  true  friend, 

And  loving  guardian , 

PAUL  TIVERTON. 

•  Ellen  wept  profusely  over  this  letter.  There  were  tear- 
marks  upon  it,  and  the  whole  tone  was,  to  her,  that  of  a 
man  who  was  struggling  to  overcome  a  great  sorrow. 
That  very  evening  Orion  came,  and  she  gave  him  the  letter 
to  read.  He  read  it,  and  as  he  handed  it  back  he  said  : 

"  Oh,  1  thank  God  that  he  is  free !  He  will  be  himself 
once  more  now  that  he  knows  her  fate.  The  dread  uncer- 
tainty which  has  hung  upon  him  has  seemed  to  keep  his 
soul  in  darkness,  and  his  heart  bowed  down  with  fear." 

"So  it  has,"  returned  Ellen.  "And  yet,"  she  added, 
with  a  strange  look  into  her  lover's  face,  "this  is  not  all 
that  has  troubled  him.  There  is  something  else — I  am  as 
sure  of  it  as  I  can  be  of  any  thing  which  my  own  senses 
have  not  recognized.  Oh,  I  wish  I  could  know  what  it  is  !  " 

Orion  did  not  answer  in  words.  He  bowed  his  head, 
and  a  tremor  shook  his  frame.  He  had  more  reason  to 
feel  earnestly  the  power  of  that  strange  secret,  than  had 
his  companion.  But  the  conversation  was  soon  changed, 
for  the  fair  girl  saw  that  her  lover  wished  not  to  speak 
upon  the  subject  she  had  broached. 

Time  still  passed  on,  and  at  length  Paul  Tiverton 
returned  to  his  home.  He  found  Ellen  in  the  library 
when  he  entered,  and  when  she  saw  him  she  sprang  for- 
ward and  sank  upon  his  bosom.  The  meeting  was  a  joy- 
ous one,  and  the  merchant  seemed  very  happy. 

Once  more  Paul  Tiverton  went  about  his  business  ; 
and  though  in  some  respects  he  was  happy,  there  was  a 
dark  cloud  often  upon  his  brow, 


A    STORY  OF    THE  PAST.  3°7 

One  evening,  as  he  and  Ellen  sat  alone  together,  the  lat- 
ter said,  after  having  gazed  for  some  time  into  his  troubled 
face  : 

"  My  dear  guardian,  why  will  you  not  tell  me  what  it  is 
that  affects  you  so  ? " 

The  merchant  started,  and  a  crimson  flush  overspread 
his  face,  which  was  quickly  followed  by  an  ashen  pallor. 

"  Nothing — nothing,"  he  whispered. 

"Ah — but  there  is  something,"  returned  the  generous 
girl,  arising  and  placing  her  arms  about  his  neck.  "  Come 
— tell  me  your  secret.  I  may  help  you." 

"  Oh,  my  child — my  Ellen — you  know  not  what  you  ask. 
Say  no  more.  The  time  is  coming  when  all  shall  be  revealed. 
It  is  not  far  distant.  Wait,  Nelly  dear,  wait,  and  in  due 
time  you  shall  know  all.  Will  you  not  be  satisfied  ? " 

"  Yes,  my  guardian." 

And  she  was  satisfied  to  wait,  though  she  still  prayed 
that  ere  long  she  might  know  the  strange  secret  which 
she  was  assured  lay  so  heavily  upon  the  good  man's  soul  ! 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

A   STORY  OF  THE  PAST. 

IT  was  evening,  and  Orion  Lindell  and  his  mother  sat 
alone  together  in  their  comfortable  parlor.     Frank  Ber- 
tram and  Aunt  Rhoda  had  gone  to  pay  a  visit  to  Con- 
stance, who  had,  as  the  reader  knows,  assumed  the  con- 
trol of  the  domestic  concerns  of  Mr.  Garvey's  household. 
The  night  was  cold  and  blustering,  for  the  first  snow  of 
winter  lay  upon  the  earth. 

"  My  mother/'  spoke  Orion,  who  had  dropped  his  book 
upon  his  lap,  and  had  been  for  some  moments  gazing 
upon  her  without  her  knowledge,-  "  why  will  you  not  tell 
me  why  you  are  thus  cast  down  and  sorrowful  ? " 

"  Me  ? — sorrowful  ? "  uttered  the  mother  starting  quickly 
at  the  sound  of  her  son's  voice. 

"  Aye — do  not  deny  it.  I  can  see.  Oh,  why  will  you 
not  tell  me  ?  I  am  suffering,  though  until  now  I  have  not 
complained.  But  I  can  not  bear  it  any  longer.  I  can  not 


308  ORION,  THE  GOLD  BEA  TER. 

bear  to  see  you  thus.  You  are  growing  more  pale  and  thin 
day  by  day.  The  rose  is  fading  from  your  cheek,  and  the 
light  from  your  eye.  Of  late  you  have  grown  sad  and  mel- 
ancholy, and  I  can  see  that  a  worm  is  gnawing  at  your 
heart.  Will  you  not  entrust  your  secret  to  me  ?  " 

"  My  secret,  Orion  ?  " 

"Aye.     Is  there  not  one  weighing  heavily  upon  you  ?" 

"  My  son,"  the  woman  said,  after  a  short  pause,  and  as 
she  spoke  there  was  a  faint  smile  upon  her  still  beautiful 
face,  "you  overrate  my  melancholy." 

"  Ah,  mother,  you  but  deceive  yourself  if  you  think  so. 
I  can  see  ;  and  it  is  my  great  love  that  gives  me  vision." 

"  Oh  !  "  murmured  Mrs.  Lindell,  resting  her  head  upon 
the  bosom  of  her  son,  who  had  taken  a  seat  near  her ; 
"I  know  you  love  me,  and  would  tell  you  all  you  ought 
to  know — " 

She  was  going  on  to  speak  further  when  they  heard  a 
stage  stop  at  the  gate,  and  when  Orion  went  to  the  win- 
dow and  looked  out  he  saw  a  gentleman  and  lady  coming  np 
to  the  door.  He  went  at  once  to  admit  them,  and  he  was  not 
a  little  surprised  upon  recognizing  Mr.  Tiverton  and  Ellen 
Durand.  He  waited  upon  them  to  the  parlor,  and  when 
they  had  saluted  the  hostess  they  took  seats  near  the 
stove. 

"  This  is  an  unexpected  visit,"  said  Orion,  gazing  first 
upon  Ellen,  and  then  upon  the  merchant. 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  maiden,  who  saw  that  her  guardian 
would  not  reply.  "  But  we  thought — a — my  guardian 
wished — to  visit  you." 

There  was  something  strange  in  this  hesitation  of  one 
who  was  always  so  plain-spoken,  and  Orion  looked  puzzled. 
He  glanced  at  his  mother,  and  saw  that  she  was  pale  and 
trembling.  It  was  all  strange.  It  was  the  first  time  that 
the  merchant  had  been  at  their  house  since  he  took  Eilen 
away. 

There  followed  a  long  silence,  and  when  it  was  becom- 
ing painful  Paul  Tiverton  spoke : 

"  Mrs.  Lindell,"  he  said,  in  a  low,  hushed  tone,  "  I  have 
come  this  evening  to — to — tell  you  a  simple  story  of  life." 

"  No,  no — not  here  ! — not  now  !  " 

"Yes,"  added  the  merchant.  "  Let  it  be  here  ;  let  it  be 
now.  These  two  whom  we  love  so  well,  have  a  right  to 


A    STORY  OF  THE  PAST.  3°9 

hear  it.  Listen  to  me.  I  shall  be  brief,  for  it  is  a  simple, 
truthful  story,  and  needs  not  many  words." 

As  he  thus  spoke,  he  wiped  a  tear  from  his  eye,  and  by  a 
powerful  effort  quelled  the  emotions  that  were  shaking  his 
frame.  Mrs.  Lindell  sat  now  like  one  in  a  trance.  The 
tremor  had  left  her  as  if  by  a  miracle,  and  every  nerve  and 
muscle  seemed  in  repose  for  some  mighty  effort. 

"  What  I  have  to  say  is  this,"  commenced  Paul  Tiver- 
ton,  in  a  low,  hushed  tone,  but  which  gained  power  as  he 
went  on.  "  My  parents  were  very  wealthy,  and  rny  father 
was  very  proud  of  station  and  name.  My  mother  was  a 
mild,  good  woman,  and  from  her  lips  and  example  I  learned 
those  great  lessons  of  life  which  fit  the  heart  for  the  enjoy- 
ment of  true  blessings.  At  the  age  of  nineteen  I  went  to 

C and  entered  the  college  in  that  town.  Three  years 

after  that  I  became  acquainted  with  a  young  girl  who  was 
a  teacher  in  one  of  the  schools  of  the  place.  She  was  only 
seventeen,  but  yet  wholly  a  woman,  and  as  beautiful  as  the 
first  blush  of  a  summer's  morn.  I  loved  her  with  the  whole 
love  of  my  soul,  and  when  I  had  confessed  it,  and  she  had 
acknowledged  a  reciprocal  affection,  I  was  happy.  I  spent 
many  of  my  evenings  in  her  society,  and  I  need  not  tell  you 
how  joyous  those  bright-winged  moments  were.  At  length 
I  talked  with  her  of  marriage.  I  told  her  of  my  father's 
proud  spirit,  and  informed  her  that  he  would  never  consent 
to  the  union.  But  I  assured  her  his  casting  me  off  would 
not  change  my  plans  with  regard  to  our  union  in  the  least. 
And  I  also  told  her  thot  I  felt  sure  my  mother  would  be 
able  in  time  to  overcome  his  objections.  I  had  seen  my 
mother,  and  when  I  had  told  her  my  story  of  love  she  said 
she  would  not  advise  me  against  my  future  peace.  All  this 
I  told  to  my  love,  and  then  I  persuaded  her  to  become  my 
wife,  but  to  keep  the  matter  a  secret,  at  least  till  my  term 
at  college  expired,  which  then  had  only  four  months  to  run. 
I  assured  her  that  as  soon  as  I  was  free  from  my  class  I 
would  own  her  to  all  the  world  as  my  wife.  And  more — I 
told  her  to  speak  the  word — to  utter  the  wish — and  even 
then  the  marriage  should  be  public.  But  she  loved  me  too 
well  to  oppose  me  in  a  single  wish.  I  gained  the  necessary 
certificates,  and  we  were  married. 

"  Four  months  of  pure  and  unalloyed  joy  followed.  My 
preceptors  loved  me  for  my  orderly  and  studious  behavior, 


316  ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

and  for  having  directly  quelled  many  turmoils  among  the 
other  students.  I  told  them  all,  and  they  blamed  me  not. 

"  I  must  now  relate  some  things  which  I  knew  not  until 
years  afterwards,  but  as  they  come  in  regular  sequence  I 
will  relate  them  as  they  occurred,  and  not  as  they  came  to 
my  knowledge. 

"  I  said  I  passed  four  months  of  pure  happiness.  Oh,  it 
was  pure  and  blessed  !  As  I  became  more  and  more  ac- 
quainted with  my  young  wife  I  found  new  charms  of  mind 
and  new  treasures  of  soul.  I  told  her  often,  and  I  told  her 
with  truth,  that  not  for  all  the  wealth  of  all  the  fathers  in 
the  world  would  I  have  given  her  up.  No— her  presence 
— her  smile  and  gentle  counsel  would  have  lightened  the 
sweetest  toil.  But  a  blow  came.  One  of  the  preceptors — 
a  mean,  sordid  wretch,  in  hopes  of  gain,  went  to  my  father 
and  told  him  the  whole  story.  When  the  term  of  my  col- 
lege life  had  expired  my  father  sent  for  me  to  come  to  him. 
He  did  not  lisp  that  he  knew  of  my  marriage  ;  but  he  had 
planned  to  send  me  to  the  East  Indies  in  one  of  his  ships. 
At  first  I  refused  to  go  ;  but  he  insisted — he  said  that  there 
was  business  which  I  must  attend  to,  and  that  he  would  turn 
me  from  his  door  if  I  thus  early  commenced  to  thwart  his 
most  important  plans.  What  could  I  do  ?  I  had  to  go.  I 
hastened  out  to  where  I  had  left  my  wife  and  told  her  all. 
She  bade  me  by  all  means  to  go.  I  shall  never  forget  the 
words  she  used  at  that  time.  Said  she  :  '  I  should  fail  in- 
deed to  show  my  love  if  I  could  urge  you  to  remain  here  to 
the  sundering  of  the  ties  between  father  and  son.  Go, 
Paul — go — and  only  promise  that  you  will  not  forget  to  love 
and  cherish  me  in  your  heart  ! '  I  pressed  the  noble,  gen- 
erous being  to  my  bosom,  and  wept  long  and  painfully.  I 
promised  that  I  would  come  to  her  as  soon  as  I  returned, 
and  that  then  I  would  give  her  to  the  world  as  my  wife,  let 
the  consequence  be  what  they  might.  She  said  she  had 
enough  to  support  her  while  I  was  gone.  Yet  I  gave  her 
five  hundred  dollars,  and  told  her  to  use  it  for  little  things 
which  would  minister  to  her  comfort  and  peace." 

Here  the  merchant  stopped  and  wiped  the  streaming 
tears  from  his  eyes,  and  Orion  and  Ellen  did  the  same. 
Mrs.  Lindell  had  not  wept.  Rigid  as  marble  she  sat,  her 
face  as  pale  as  death,  and  her  hands  both  clasped  over  her 
heart. 


A    STORY  OF   THE  PAST.  311 

"  I  left  her  and  went  away.  I  was  gone  to  India  over 
two  years,  for  my  father  had  intrusted  me  with  much  busi- 
ness. I  wrote  her  many  letters,  but  I  got  none  in  return — 
not  one  ! " 

At  this  point  Mrs.  Lindell  gave  a  sudden  start ;  but  in  a 
moment  more  she  was  as  rigid  as  before. 

"  When  I  came  home  my  father  called  me  into  his  private 
room,  and  there  told  me  that  he  had  discovered  the  secret 
of  my  marriage.  I  was  going  on  to  tell  him  that  I  owned 
the  fact,  and  should  thenceforth  claim  her  as  my  wife,  when 
he  stopped  me  by  informing  me  that  there  was  no  need  of 
further  remark.  He  told  me  my  wife  was  dead — that  she 
had  been  dead  over  a  year  !  Oh,  my  soul  !  what  a  blow 
was  that  !  I  staggered  back  against  the  wall,  and  a  dizzi- 
ness came  over  me.  I  rushed  out  into  the  cool  air,  and  for 
some  hours  I  remained  alone  in  the  garden.  On  the  next 

day  I  started  for  the  town  of  C ,  where  the  college  was, 

to  see  if  I  could  learn  any  thing  of  my  wife's  family.  But 
my  search  was  fruitless.  She  had  come  from  a  distant 
town  where  she  was  engaged  as  a  teacher  there,  and  none 
knew  where  it  was.  When  I  had  searched  two  whole  days 
in  vain  I  returned  to  my  home,  where  my  mother  tried  to 
give  me  comfort.  My  father  laughed  at  first  at  my  folly,  as 
he  termed  it ;  and  when  he  found  that  the  agony  of  my 
soul  was  too  deep  to  be  removed  in  that  way  he  became 
kind  and  obliging,  and  tried  to  convince  me  that  it  was  fool- 
ish to  mourn  longer  for  one  who  was  lost  to  me. 

"  At  length  my  father  took  me  into  the  counting-house, 
and  by  degrees  I  became  calm  and  reconciled.  But  I  was 
not  happy.  The  greatest  joy  of  my  life  had  been  snatched 
from  me — the  deepest  cup  of  bliss  broken— the  strongest 
chord  of  my  heart  snapped  in  sunder,  and  the  one  great 
hope  of  the  future  dashed  to  the  earth.  Time  passed  on. 
Two  years  had  flown  since  my  return  from  India,  and  at  the 
end  of  that  time  my  father  spoke  to  me  of  marriage.  One 
of  his  most  intimate  friends — Mr.  Church — had  a  daughter 
whom  he  was  anxious  I  should  wed.  Mr.  Church  and  his 
wife  had  then  lately  returned  from  a  visit  to  Europe,  and 
they  were  anxious — very  anxious — that  I  should  become 
the  husband  of  their  daughter.  I  saw  her — she  was  pretty 
and  entertaining ;  but,  like  all  others  of  her  sex,  I  could 
only  respect  and  esteem  her,  I  had  no  heart  to  give.  That 


3*2  ORION,    THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

heart  lay  broken  and  bleeding  still  upon  the  supposed  grave 
of  her  whom  I  still  deeply  and  devoutly  loved  in  cherished 
memory.  Yet  I  allowed  myself  to  be  persuaded  into  the 
marriage.  I  told  Julia  Church  that  I  could  respect  and 
esteem  her,  but  that  love  was  beyond  my  power.  I  told 
her  that  I  had  loved  once — that  my  love  was  borne  away  to 
the  land  of  the  hereafter,  and  that  I  could  never  love  again. 
And  still  she  took  me.  I  had  supposed  she  would  turn 
from  me  upon  this.  I  had  held  in  my  soul  a  firm  faith  that 
when  I  offered  her  my  hand  and  fortune  without  my  heart 
she  would  reject  them  both.  But  I  was  disappointed.  She 
wanted  the  station  which  my  wealth  could  give,  and  to  gain 
it  she  inflicted  herself  upon  me.  I  could  not  retract  now. 
Under  the  impression  I  have  mentioned  I  had  told  my  own 
parents  and .  hers  that  I  would  marry  her  if  she  would 
accept  me  after  knowing  me  well. 

"  We  were  married  ;  but  we  were  never  happy.  Yet  we 
had  a  sumptuous  home,  and  people  envied  us.  In  four 
years  after  that  my  father  died,  and  I  became  the  possessor 
of  his  whole  vast  fortune,  save  a  portion  which  was  left  for 
my  mother's  use.  At  the  end  of  ten  years  my  mother  lay 
upon  her  death-bed.  When  she  knew  she  was  dying  she 
called  me  to  her  bedside  and  took  my  hand.  She  said  she 
had  a  secret  upon  her  mind  which  she  could  not  carry  with 
her  to  the  grave.  And  thereupon  she  told  me  a  story  which 
came  nigh  snatching  away  my  reason  forever.  She  told  me 
that  she  and  my  father  had  deceived  me — that  the  young 
wife  I  had  married  in  my  early  manhood  was  not  dead  as 
they  had  told  me — or,  at  least,  that  they  had  no  knowledge 
of  her  death.  My  father  had  gone  out  there  and  found 
where  she  lived,  and  given  to  her  the  false  intelligence  that 
I  had  been  lost  at  sea.  He  saw  her  uncle,  with  whom  she 
lived,  and  begged  of  him  to  persuade  her  to  give  up  his  son's 
name.  Her  parents  were  both  dead,  and  as  she  found  a  home 
now  with  her  mother's  brother  she  consequently  felt  some- 
what bound  to  obey  him.  My  father  gave  to  this  uncle  four 
thousand  dollars  for  the  poor  young  wife's  use,  and  obtained 
from  him  an  assurance  that  she  should  change  her  name. 
After  this  my  father  made  arrangements  with  the  Post- 
master at  C ,  where  my  letters  would  be  directed,  to 

have  them  all  intercepted  and  forwarded  to  him  at  New 


A    STORY  OF    THE  PAST.  3T3 

"  All  was  now  settled,  and  the  plot  was  secure.  None  of 
my  letters  could  reach  their  proper  destination,  and  my  wife 
supposed  me  dead  indeed.  And  my  mother  told  me,  too, 
that  my  wife  had  a  child — a  boy — whom  she  cherished  and 
loved.  When  she  had  told  me  all  she  begged  of  me  to 
forgive  her  for  the  part  she  had  acted  against  me.  She 
assured  me  that  it  was  not  her  wish  ;  but  that  my  father 
had  assured  her  that  by  such  means  alone  could  she  prevent 
her  son  from  being  cast  out.  She  could  not  bear  the 
thought  of  that,  and  she  consented  to  help  carry  out  the 
cruel  plot. 

"  I  did  not  answer  her  then — I  could  not.  I  rushed  from 
the  house,  and  once  more  sought  that  same  spot  in  the 
garden  where  I  had  cooled  my  feverish  brow  twelve  years 
before.  Oh,  I  can  not  tell  you  what  I  suffered  !  They 
came  and  told  me  my  mother  was  dying,  and  I  went  back 
to  her  room.  I  forgave  her,  and  she  blessed  me.  After 
she  was  dead  I  sank  very  low.  My  sufferings  were  so 
intense  that  once  I  thought  of  death  by  my  own  hands  ! 
Aye — I  thought  of  it  seriously.  But  I  owe  my  life  to  my 
children.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  two  little  ones  who  clung 
to  me  I  should  surely  have  gone  !  People  thought — and 
my  wife  thought — that  that  long  fit  of  physical  prostration 
and  deep  sorrow  was  in  consequence  of  the  death  of  my 
mother.  I  let  them  think  so,  and  I  was  glad  they  did. 

"  When  I  got  strong  again  I  had  thoughts  of  hunting  up 
my  wife — my  heart's  wife.  But  when  I  came  to  remember 
that  if  I  found  her  alive  it  could  only  make  her  miserable,  I 
gave  up  the  idea. 

.  "  And  so  I  have  lived  on,  I  can  not  tell  you  how.  Much 
of  my  sorrow  you  know.  The  second  wife — the  one  who 
was  forced  upon  me — has  gone  from  earth,  and  I  feel  that 
I  never  knew  her.  I  never  deceived  her — never.  She 
knew  from  the  first  that  I  had  no  heart  to  give  her,  and  full 
well,  too,  she  knew  that  she  had  no  heart,  no  love  for  me. 
The  blow  of  her  flight  came  heavily  because  of  its  shame  ; 
but  I  would  not  have  called  her  back.  God  be  merciful 
unto  her." 

Here  the  merchant  stopped  and  wiped  the  tears  from  his 
cheeks.  Orion  and  Ellen  were  breathless  with  eager,  wild 
suspense,  while  Mrs.  Lindell  sat  as  before,  save  that  she  was 
laboring  heavily  to  keep  back  the  fearful  tumult  of  her  soul, 


ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 
CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

CONCLUSION. 

FOR  some  moments  Mr.  Tiverton   struggled  with  his 
feelings,  and  finally  he  resumed  : 

"  At  length  fortune,  in  her  strangeness  of  freaks, 
brought  me  to  this  house.  At  first  I  saw  a  sweet,  pleasant 
face  ;  but  the  name  which  the  owner  of  that  face  bore  pre- 
vented me  from  seeing  more.  Again  I  came,  and  that  face, 
sweeter  and  more  heavenly  than  before,  gave  me  a  fearful 
shock,  for  it  put  me  in  mind  of  one  whom  I  had  loved  with 
the  whole  unbroken  love  of  my  manhood's  long,  dark  years. 
Finally  I  came  to  take  my  ward  away,  and  Orion  went  with 
me.  He  asked  me  a  question  which  led  to  a  dialogue  of 
more  than  mortal  import.  From  him  I  learned  that  his 

mother  was  once  a  school-teacher — that  she  taught  in  C , 

and  that  her  home  was  in  Snowville.     He  told  me  more — he 
told  me  enough  to  open  the  mighty  secret  to  my  mind." 

At  this  point  the  speaker  arose  and  took  a  step  forward, 
and,  trembling  at  every  joint,  with  big  tears  starting  down 
his  cheeks,  he  added  : 

"  Catharine — my  wife — my  own  loved  one — my  fondly 
remembered,  ever  worshipped  wife,  will  you  not  once  more 
find  your  rest  upon  this  bosom  ?  Oh  !  speak  to  me — one 
word — " 

With  a  low,  quick  cry  of  joy  the  woman  arose  to  her  feet 
and  tottered  forward. 

"  Paul— Paul— my— " 

The  utterance  was  lost  in  sobs,  and  on  the  next  moment 
the  husband  and  wife — long,  long  separated,  but  now,  in 
the  noontide  of  life,  restored  to  love  and  to  joy — were 
clasped  in  each  other's  embrace.  Ellen  Durand  gazed 
a  moment  upon  the  scene,  and  then,  utterly  power- 
less from  anxiety  and  excitement,  she  sank  forward  upon 
her  lover's  bosom.  Orion  hardly  knew  what  he  did,  or 
what  he  saw.  There  was  a  wild,  whirling  flood  of  startled 
joy  in  his  soul,  and  he  could  only  clasp  Ellen  in  his  em- 
brace and  weep  till  his  tears  flowed  like  a  stream. 

And  thus  was  the  last  great  mystery  solved.  When  all 
became  calm  once  more,  Catharine  told  how  she  had  suf- 


CONCLUSION-.  313 

fered — she  told  how  she  had  taken  her  uncle's  name,  and 
how  she  always  brought  her  boy  up  to  believe  that  that 
uncle  was  his  father.  But  she  could  not  tell  much  ;  when 
she  referred  to  those  scenes  in  the  past  her  feelings  over- 
came her,  and  tears  and  sobs  choked  her  utterance. 
.  "  And  thou — thou  whom  I  have  loved  from  the  moment 
wnen  I  first  saw  thee — art  my  own  son — my  own,  my 
own  ! "  the  stout  man  murmured,  as  he  held  Orion  to  his 
bosom. 

There  are  seasons  when  great  joy  pains  the  heart,  as 
high  floods  may  stop  the  huge  wheel  upon  which  a  thousand 
spindles  depend  for  motion.  And  so  it  was  in  the  present 
case.  In  that  humble  room — humble  before  the  world,  but 
rich  before  God — rich  in  love  and  good-will,  in  virtue  and 
peace — the  joy  was  wild  and  frantic.  For  one  long  hour 
Catharine  lay  weeping  like  a  child  upon  the  bosom  of  her 
restored  husband,  while  the  only  utterance  that  broke  the 
air  were  prayers  of  gratitude  and  blessings. 


Paul  Tiverton  had  no  more  to  conceal.  One  evening 
his  large  parlors  were  thronged  with  his  friends — with  those 
who  were  tried  and  true  ;  but  few  men  had  more.  When 
all  were  assembled — when  the  spacious  apartments  were 
full — the  merchant  led  forward  a  beautiful  woman  by  the 
hand.  She  had  just  made  her  appearance  from  the  library, 
and  a  murmur  of  admiration  ran  around  through  the  multi- 
tude as  they  dwelt  for  the  first  time  on  the  well-developed 
loveliness  of  the  stranger. 

Ah — Catharine  had  changed  during  the  few  short  weeks 
that  had  elapsed  since  the  sacred  reunion.  The  rose  had 
returned  upon  her  cheeks  ;  the  warm,  genial  light  had  come 
back  to  her  eye,  and  over  her  whole  face  the  generous  flush 
of  health  and  happiness  was  apparent.  Her  dress  was  of 
pure  white  satin,  and  a  single  rose  blossomed  upon  her 
bosom,  while  a  tiara  of  pearls  rested  upon  her  dark  brown 
hair. 

As  soon  as  all  was  hushed  Mr.  Tiverton  commenced  the 
story  of  his  early  life.  He  told  all — all  save  the  single  fact 
of  his  father's  falsehood — leaving  his  auditors  to  infer  that 
his  parents  really  believed  his  young  wife  dead.  And 
when  he  had  given  them  the  strange  tale  he  wiped  his 


316  ORION,   THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

eyes,  as  did  all  the  others,  for  all  had  wept — and  then  he 
added  : 

"  And  now,  under  the  circumstances  I  have  presented,  I 
have  deemed  it  proper  that  the  ceremony  of  that  hour  long 
agone  should  be  repeated.  God  has  given  me  the  wife  of 
my  heart,  and  men  shall  not  say  she  is  not  legally  mine. 
And  you  will  see  that  I  am  not  alone.  This  is  my  son— 
my  own,  loved  child. " 

As  the  father  thus  spoke,  Orion  came  forward  leading 
Ellen  by  the  hand. 

"Why — look  at  him,"  cried  an  enthusiastic  old  merchant, 
rubbing  his  hands  with  delight.  "  Wouldn't  ye  know  they 
were  father  and  son?  Aren't  they  alike  as  two  silver 
dollars  from  the  same  mint,  only  a  few  years'  difference  in 
the  date  of  the  coin?" 

And  the  old  man  spoke  truly.  They  were  alike — the 
same  manly  form  ;  the  same  frank  face  ;  the  same  fair, 
curling  hair,  and  the  same  stamps  of  comeliness. 

But  the  ceremony  was  soon  performed — the  father  and 
son  had  each  a  wife  to  love  and  to  honor ;  and  God  knows 
they  were  worthy  of  it. 

They  were  worthy  of  the  wives  ;  and,  oh  !  those  wives 
were  worthy  of  the  deepest  love  the  human  heart  can  bear. 

At  a  late  hour  the  party  broke  up,  and  many  a  man  went 
to  his  home  that  night  wishing  that  there  were  Catharine 
Tivertons  or  Ellen  Durands  enough  for  all  who  needed 
them. 

And  Time  still  rolled  on.  At  the  mansion  of  the  mer- 
chant lived  the  father  and  son,  and  their  happy,  blessed 
wives.  Orion  had  been  admitted  as  a  partner  with  his 
parent,  and  he  was  not  long  in  proving  himself  worthy  of 
the  place,  and  of  the  trust  it  involved.  Mr.  Garvey  lost  a 
valuable  foreman,  but  he  complained  not.  He  was  only 
too  happy  to  be  admitted  to  the  friendship  and  confidence 
of  the  merchant  and  his  son.  He  and  his  wife  often  visited 
at  the  house  of  our  hero,  and  though  he  honored  and 
esteemed  those  who  lived  there,  yet  he  did  not  envy  them 
— oh,  far  from  it,  for  in  his  own  pure  and  faithful  Con- 
stance he  had  found  a  wife  worth  more  than  all  the  world 
beside  to  him,  and  even  little  Lizzie  was  a  treasure  in  her- 
self. Aye — and  had  she  not  been  a  child  of  a  strong  mind 
she  might  have  been  spoiled,  for  she  was  petted  at 


CONCLUSION.  317 

and  at  the  house  of  the  merchant  she  was  petted  more 
still.  But  she  had  been  severely  schooled  in  adversity,  and 
she  bore  her  honors  meekly,  and  never  for  one  moment 
forgot  that  she  was  a  little  child,  and  that  she  should  be 
thankful  to  God  and  to  her  generous  friends  of  earth. 

Frank  Bertram  accepted  a  handsome  sum  from  Mr. 
Tiverton,  and  opened  a  store  on  his  own  account,  in  which 
he  did  a  thriving  business.  As  for  Aunt  Rhoda,  she  led 
a  sort  of  migratory  life,  part  of  the  time  stopping  with  Mr. 
Tiverton,  and  the  other  part  with  Constance. 

When  Orion  left  the  gold-beater's  shop  Henry  Tweed 
was  made  foreman  in  his  place.  Henry  had  ever  been  a 
faithful,  steady  man  since  Orion  saved  him  from  the  gaming- 
table, and  just  at  the  time  he  assumed  his  new  position  in 
the  shop  he  took  to  himself  a  wife.  Oae  day  Orion  came 
in  and  asked  him  to  go  and  take  a  ride.  They  went  out 
and  entered  a  stage,  and  when  they  were  set  down  it  was  in 
front  of  the  neat,  pretty  cottage-house  where  our  hero  had 
so  long  found  a  home. 

"  Henry,"  said  Orion,  with  a  beaming  smile,  "  you  have 
taken  a  wife,  and  I  doubt  not  you  would  rather  keep  house 
than  to  board  out." 

"  Yes — oh,  yes — only  decent  rents  are  so  enormous." 

"  Well — here  is  this  house  of  mine.  It  is  furnished 
throughout — furnished  well.  It  is  in  good  repair — in  a 
good  neighborhood,  and,  withal,  a  pretty  place.  I  will  let 
you  have  it  cheap." 

"  How  cheap  ?"  asked  Henry,  eagerly. 

"  Here — here  is  the  deed  of  the  whole — made  over  to 
you.  Take  it  in  token  of  the  love  I  bear  you  ;  and  all  I 
ask  in  return  is  your  assurance  that  the  dear  old  house 
shall  still  continue  to  be  the  abode  of  honor,  of  peace,  and 
of  love." 

It  was  some  moments  ere  Henry  Tweed  could  compre- 
hend the  meaning  of  all  this  ;  but  when  he  understood  that 
the  house  was  his — all  his,  with  the  land,  the  furniture,  and 
the  beautiful  trees  and  shrubs,  he  burst  into  tears,  and  it 
was  a  long  time  ere  he  could  speak  a  word.  But  he  gave 
the  promise,  and  thus  far  he  has  kept  it. 

******* 

It  was  a  cold,  blustering  night  in  the  month  of  Decem- 
ber. A  year  had  passed  away  since  the  marriage  of  Orion 


ORION,    THE  GOLD  BEATER. 

and  his  father,  and  thus  far  such  joy  had  been  theirs  as  can 
be  experienced  alone  by  the  pure  in  heart  and  the  honest 
and  upright  in  soul. 

Paul  Tiverton  sat  upon  one  of  the  sofas  in  his  large  par- 
lor, near  the  well-filled  grate,  and  Catherine  was  by  his  side 
with  his  head  drawn  upon  her  bosom,  her  fingers  working 
lovingly  round  the  ringlets  of  his  hair.  At  the  piano  sat 
Ellen,  playing  a  sweet,  plaintive  air,  while  in  the  centre 
stood  Orion,  tossing  in  his  strong  hands  a  boy-baby  some 
three  months  of  age.  Look  at  him  as  he  stands  there — 
tall,  erect,  and  proud  ;  with  his  noble  head  thrown  back, 
and  a  bright  smile  playing  upon  his  handsome  face.  It  is 
his  boy ! — his,  his — and  as  he  tosses  it  up,  and  calls  it  in 
wild  notes  of  joy  and  pride  and  love,  Ellen  ever  and  anon 
turns  her  head  with  a  nervous  look,  for  her  mother's  heart 
is  tender,  and  she  does  not  at  the  moment  remember  how 
strong  and  sure  are  those  hands  that  thus  bear  aloft  her 
darling  treasure. 

The  notes  of  the  piano  were  just  dying  away,  and  the 
elder  Mr.  Tiverton  had  just  started  up  from  the  bosom  of 
his  faithful,  loving  wife  with  a  remark  upon  his  lips  touch- 
ing the  severity  of  the  storm  without,  when  the  door-bell 
was  rung. 

In  a  few  moments  more  one  of  the  servants  put  her  head 
in  at  the  door  and  informed  Mr.  Tiverton  that  there  was  a 
woman  in  the  hail  who  wished  to  see  him. 

"  Then  send  her  in  here  at  once,"  the  merchant  re- 
plied. "  Do  not  keep  a  female  standing  out  there  in  the 
cold." 

Directly  afterwards  a  female  form  entered  the  parlor. 
Her  garments  were  tattered  and  torn,  and  covered  with 
snow.  With  slow,  trembling  steps  she  advanced  to  the 
centre  of  the  outer  parlor,  and  there  she  stopped.  She  was 
surely  very  poor  and  very  miserable,  for  as  she  stopped  a 
deep  sob  broke  from  her  lips. 

"  Did  you  wish  to  see  me  ? "  asked  Paul  Tiverton, 
advancing  to  meet  her. 

But  she  spoke  not,  nor  did  she  raise  her  head.  She 
stood  trembling  there,  with  her  thin,  purple  hands  clasped 
over  her  bosom,  while  the  snow,  which  was  shaken  from 
her  miserable  garments  by  the  quaking  of  the  wasted 
frame,  fell  to  the  rich  carpet  and  melted  into  tears. 


CONCLUSION.  3J9 

"  Did  you  seek  me,  my  good  woman  ?  "  the  merchant 
asked,  louder  than  before. 

The  figure  raised  its  head — the  light  gleamed  upon  a 
pallid,  deathly  face — and  only  one  word  dropped  from  her 
lips.  That  word  was  "  FATHER  !  " 

As  this  magic  word  escaped  her,  she  would  have  fallen 
to  the  floor  had  not  the  merchant  caught  her  in  his  arms. 

"  Isabella  ! — my  child  !     My  poor,  poor  child  !  " 

"  You  will  not  drive  me  out  into  the  storm  again  ?  "  the 
miserable  woman  murmured. 

"  Drive  you  out  ?  Have  you  not  come  back  to  me  ? 
Have  you  not  come  back  to  claim  your  native  home  ?  " 

"  Can  you  take  me  back  ?  Can  you  ever  love  me 
again  ? " 

"  But  have  you  come  to  find  a  home  ? " 

"  To  beg  for  charity  ! — to  find  a  home  if  you  can  forgive 
me  and  love  me  again  !  " 

"  Forgive  thee  ?  Love  thee  again  ? "  cried  the  stout 
man,  clasping  the  storm-beaten  form  to  his  bosom.  "  Oh  ! 
God  knows  I  have  forgiven  you  from  the  first,  and  that  my 
heart  has  never  for  one  moment  ceased  to  hold  you  in  love, 
and  in  its  most  earnest  prayers.  Isabella — my  child — my 
heart  is  open  for  you — and  thou  art  once  more  at  home. 
God  be  praised  for  his  goodness  in  thus  giving  me  back  my 
child  !  " 

In  a  few  moments  more  Isabella  found  herself  sur- 
rounded by  friends,  each  anxious  to  minister  to  her  com- 
fort. Her  wet  and  tattered  garments  were  taken  from  her, 
and  having  led  her  to  the  library,  Catharine  and  Ellen  soon 
had  her  ensconced  in  warm,  dry  clothing,  and  thus  she  was 
led  back  to  the  parlor,  where  some  warm  wine  was  given  to 
her,  and  some  food. 

Alas  !  poor  Isabella  !  she  had  suffered,  indeed  !  She 
was  wasted  and  worn,  and  her  soul  had  been  long  dark  and 
drear.  When  she  was  able  she  told  her  sad  story.  She 
told  how  the  count  had  turned  out  to  be  a  villain — how  he 
had  taken  her  to  Charleston,  South  Carolina — how  he  had 
got  from  her  all  her  jewelry  and  money,  and  then  deserted 
her  !  Then  she  told  how  her  child  was  born — how  it  lived 
a  few  short  weeks  and  then  died — and  how  she  had  lain  for 
long  months  sick  and  weak,  almost  unto  death.  And  next 
she  told  of  starting  to  find  her  home — how  3he  had  begged 


320  ORION,    THE   GOLD  BEATER. 

her  way  at  every  station,  and  how  she  had  often  fallen  weak 
and  powerless  on  the  toilsome  journey. 

"But,"  she  cried,  while  a  brighter  glow  rested  for  an 
instant  upon  her  sunken  features,  and  lighted  up  her  dim 
eye,  "  save  the  first  act  of  my  disobedience  to  my  good 
father's  wish,  and  the  deep  sorrows  that  have  come  upon 
me  from  it,  there  is  no  shame  with  me.  I  come  to  you  an 
erring,  repentant  child,  but  before  God  and  my  father  I  am 
not  tainted  !  " 

In  turn  Isabella  was  informed  of  the  strange  events  that 
had  transpired  during  her  absence,  and  there  was  no  spark 
of  jealousy  in  her  bosom.  She  commenced  to  love  them 
all  that  very  night,  and  as  time  has  passed  on,  and  she  has 
known  them  better,  she  loves  them  more  and  more. 

Ay  ! — Isabella  was  just  commencing  to  live  the  True 
Life.  In  the  life  of  the  soul — in  that  life  whence  springs 
the  fountains  of  those  sweet  waters  that  give  growth  and 
vigor  to  the  purer  and  nobler  flowers  of  humanity — she  was 
an  infant,  just  learning  the  first  rudiments  of  Joy  and 
Peace. 

And  over  them  all  in  that  Christian  home  the  Angel  of 
Sweet  Content  keeps  its  ceaseless  vigil.  They  still  live  and 
move  in  our  midst  ;  and  though  they  all  have  seen  much  of 
trial  and  sorrow,  vet  they  are  able  to  thank  God  for  the 
blessings  they  enjoy,  and  to  show  to  their  friends  that  even 
upon  this  poor  earth  the  pure  in  heart  may  gain  a  foretaste 
of  Heaven  ! 

THE   END. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below, 
or  on  the  date  to  which  renewed.  Renewals  only: 

Tel.  No.  642-3405 

Renewals  may  be  made  4  days  prior  to  date  due. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


Due  end  of  SUMMER  Period 

subject  to   re-1'  r- 


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